


At Times I Almost Dream

by LadyC



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Infinity War Fix It, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Canon Compliant, Depression, Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Infinity Stones, M/M, Multiverse, Post-Avengers: Infinity War, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pseudoscience, Steve Rogers Is Not Okay, Steve Rogers vs Captain America, Stucky main pairing, Virgin Steve, but he will be, implied suicidal thoughts, infinity war fix-it, the Soul Stone is basically the Love Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-04-30 02:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14487126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyC/pseuds/LadyC
Summary: “God, I miss you, Buck. Even when you’re dead you’re still trying to take care of me.”“Sure, pal. Except I’m not the one who’s dead.”When Thanos snapped his fingers, he split the universe into two – one where half the population had been erased from existence, another where the other half had. As both sets of Avengers will learn, the divide between the worlds is thinner for those who share a particular type of connection…





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Robert Browning’s "Paracelsus" (for any X-Philes out there, this was the poem used in the episode “The Field Where I Died,” which also seemed appropriate for this piece):
> 
> "At times I almost dream  
> I too have spent a life the sages’ way,  
> And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance  
> I perished in an arrogant self-reliance  
> Ages ago; and in that act a prayer  
> For one more chance went up so earnest, so  
> Instinct with better light let in by death,  
> That life was blotted out — not so completely  
> But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,  
> Dim memories, as now, when once more seems  
> The goal in sight again."

Shuri was laughing at him, Steve was sure.

He hadn’t even noticed she was there when he entered the lab. He had been too focused on trying to tamp down the rising anticipation as Bucky moved towards him.

Steve had been able to explain the eagerness easily enough in the beginning. He loved hugging Bucky simply because he could, now that Bucky was present and alive and no longer instinctively reacted to hugs as if they were a mortal threat.

As enough time went by for this to become the norm, Steve began to chalk up the anticipation to his yearning for a feeling of home. Hugging his best friend meant that he could finally rest a little while because he would be spending time with the only person left alive who had known Steve before Cap.

Lately, though, Steve was beginning to suspect that there was something else at play. Hugging your best friend was probably supposed to make you happy, but was it also supposed to make you shivery and light-headed? Was it normal to find yourself lingering in the hug, desperately trying to memorize the sensation of it? Did everyone struggle to stop themselves from running their hands through their best friend’s hair whenever they got close to them?

Steve had considered running these question by Sam or Nat, but resisted. He was too afraid that the answer would be “no, Steve, that’s very not normal” and then he’d have to be honest with himself. To face what was really going on here. As brave as other people kept telling him he was, that was not something Steve was ready for.

Maybe one day.

Not yet.

The cacophony of thoughts slipped away as he put his arms around Bucky and let himself get caught up in the subtle smell of sweat and the brush of stubble against his cheek.

“So, do you guys want me to give you some space or…?”                                                                                   

It was only his super-soldier reflexes that stopped Steve from jumping at the sound of Shuri’s voice. Instead, he let go of Bucky and stepped back at what he assured himself was a normal, unhurried speed. He focused on keeping a blush off his face.

He had some time to recover, as Shuri and Bucky were having a conversation that consisted solely of meaningful looks that Steve couldn’t parse.

After a moment, Shuri turned to Steve with a mischievous grin. “You know, Captain Rogers, there are plenty of rooms here in the palace. You are both  more thanwelcome to stay here during your visits.”

“We like the quiet.” Bucky looked to Steve for confirmation and Steve nodded.

“At the very least, we can bring you a second bed so you can be more comfortable.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Bucky grumbled.

Shuri looked at him with mock innocence. “I’m sorry, am I messing with your game, White Wolf?”

Bucky glared.

Steve did his best to appear completely lost. “Am I missing something?”

“No. The kid just thinks she’s being funny.”

Shuri looked offended. “I am significantly funnier than you, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Most people are,” Steve chimed in, feeling more in his depth.

“You keep telling yourself that, punk.” Bucky slung his arm around Steve’s shoulder in an instinctive gesture that had managed to outlast Steve growing taller and broader than him. They made their way out of the lab.

When Steve glanced back at Shuri, she winked at him.  

* * *

Steve hesitated as he put his bags down next to the bed in the one-room farmhouse Bucky had recently started occupying. “Buck, seriously, if the bed thing’s a problem…”

“Come on, Steve. We used to share all the time.”

“Yeah, but I’m a lot bigger now.”

“And I’m down a limb, so it basically evens out.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Bucky smirked and shook his head, so Steve decided it was best to let it go.

* * *

Later, when the lights were out and they were laying side by side, Steve had finally relaxed enough to ask the question that had been on his mind since he’d arrived. “I checked in with T’Challa this morning about progress on your new arm this morning. He told me it was ready months ago, but you told him you didn't want it?”

Bucky hesitated, then shook his head and set his jaw. “I don’t. That arm… it was never a part of me. It was a weapon. And no matter how Shuri has rigged this new one, the second they put it on, that’s what I’ll feel like. A weapon. I’m done fighting, Steve.”

Steve swallowed down the emotion rising in his throat. “You are not a weapon, Bucky. Never were and never will be. Having a functional left arm doesn’t change that.”

“I’d just prefer not to, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I'll drop it."

There was a silence that bordered on awkward for a moment. 

“Unless..." Bucky began tentatively. "I mean, it’s probably jarring for you. To have a reminder of how badly they broke me every time you look at me. If I weren’t me, I’d find it pretty repulsive. Hell, I am me and I still do.”

“C'mon, Buck. You could never be repulsive. Not to me.”

Bucky shrugged, unconvinced.

Steve impulsively reached out, found Bucky’s right hand, and tangled their fingers together. Bucky seemed to freeze.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked hesitantly.

When he got no response, Steve went to move his hand away, but Bucky squeezed it tighter.

“Yeah, Stevie.” Bucky took a deep breath and, with some effort, continued, “Actually, it’s more than okay.”

Steve looked over at him. Between the nearly fully moon and his enhanced vision, he saw Bucky’s jaw tilt in challenge. Bucky's voice went a little rough as he added, “You know what I'm saying?”

It was Steve’s turn to freeze up. He was abruptly aware of how little space there was between them. Bucky couldn’t possibly mean…. But what else could he mean, when he was grasping Steve’s hand and looking at him like that?

Steve was suddenly, desperately afraid. What if this was a mistake? It could ruin everything. He couldn’t risk losing Bucky, not again. He knew that if he looked away and said nothing, Bucky would let the charged moment slip away. Everything would be back to normal by the next morning.

The thing was, Steve wasn't sure he wanted it be.

Bucky seemed to sense his dilemma. He smiled crookedly. “Steve…”

Whatever he had been about to say was interrupted by the insistent beeping of Steve’s phone. Steve pulled his hand away and sat up to look at the screen. Bucky sighed heavily. They both knew what was coming.

“They need me in Scotland ASAP. I have to go now. We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

“Yeah. Alright, Steve.”

“I mean it.”

And he did. They’d come back to this and figure it all out. After decades of pain and desperation, they finally had time. 

* * *

Time was up and they had lost.

Steve traced his fingers through the dust that just moments before had been his best friend. A prayer from Steve's youth crept into his mind (ashes to ashes…), but he pushed it away. He had failed. He did not deserve even what little comfort it may have provided.

Rhodes and Okoye stumbled off together to search for other survivors. Bruce clambered out of his broken armor and came over to put his arms around Natasha, any anger or awkwardness between them forgotten. Thor picked up the mouthy racoon who had gone eerily quiet and clutched him to his chest. 

Steve stood alone as shock gave way to comprehension. All the time he thought they had was gone. He would never hold Bucky or be held by him. He would never be able to run his hands through his hair. He would never know what it would be like to kiss him. 

He had been so stupid.

He had missed his chance during the war. By some preternatural grace he’d been granted a second chance, but he’d missed that, too. And now he was finally, irrevocably, out of time. All of his chances had vanished into dust.

If there was a God, he must be laughing at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still wrecked from seeing "Infinity War." I was tempted to write a one-shot fix-it for Steve and Bucky, but the filmmakers did such a wonderful job of building a full world of characters and creating such a heart-wrenching cliffhanger that I felt like I had to tell a full story to really do it justice. The next chapter will start the story proper. 
> 
> As always, comments and criticism are more than welcome! Working without a beta on this one.


	2. Scattered Wrecks Enough of It Remain

Steve decided quickly that he didn’t have time to mourn, but a Steve Rogers without a Bucky Barnes would inherently be a man in mourning. He was well aware that a world shaking with grief had no use for a man on the verge of collapsing from his own. Ergo, the world had no use for Steve Rogers.

The world might have a use for Captain America.

Steve had claimed that he’d given up the title after realizing that what America stood for and what he stood for were no longer one and the same. That was true, of course, but it wasn’t the only reason. The battle with Tony had forced Steve to realize that he was no longer placing honor and duty above all else – Bucky had come first. So long as Steve was so compromised, he didn’t believe it was right for him to take back the shield. But now Bucky is gone. All links to his past, to the man he was before Cap, were gone.  

In the wake of all this uncertainty, people needed a figure they trusted, who had a legacy and history of standing up for the best of what America could be. The best of what they all could be, even in so dark a time.

So, Steve let himself go numb as he shaved his beard and donned an old uniform. He transformed back into that dancing monkey, the puppet held up by strings of duty and moral obligation. He was Captain America. The man with a plan. The man who could tell people things would be alright and could make them believe him.

He figured it didn’t matter whether he believed himself. 

* * *

The day after the Disappearance, the remaining Avengers had met to assess the situation. With the marked exceptions of Tony, who had sent word he was travelling back from Titan, and Clint, who was still MIA, they were back to the original group that had gathered to fight the Chitauri six years ago.

They had done so much since then to build the team. They had recruited and trained and created a group large and varied enough so that the world would be protected long after the team’s first iteration was gone. And it had all come to nothing. Their legacy had vanished with a snap of Thanos’s fingers. All that was left was a group of tired, broken, bitter soldiers who kept fighting because they didn’t know what else to do.

For the time being, the Avengers were using Wakanda as a home base. The country’s technology was advanced enough that, even with half their population having vanished into ash, they could maintain a global communications system. Moreover, Shuri was following in her brother’s footsteps and there was little fear that the crisis would be used to curtail rights and amass power. It was uncertain whether the same could be said for the United States.

Team members were constantly deploying to trouble spots around the world, helping to rebuild and to keep the peace. There was less need for peace-keeping than many had been expecting. It was as if the whole world had gone quiet, its people all holding their breath because, the second they exhaled, this would be real.

It was already real enough for Steve. After all, he had experience with losing everything.

* * *

When Tony returned, he came back alone.

Steve was busy helping to repair the protective dome and so had an excuse to keep his distance. It was a few days before Tony maneuvered to get him alone in a palace anteroom. They stood in an awkward silence for a moment before Tony led off with, “I heard about Barnes. And Sam and T’Challa… I’m sorry for your loss. I may not have been Barnes’s biggest fan, but he shouldn’t have had to go out like that.”

Before Steve could be the bigger man and bite his words back, he snapped, “Right, he should have been blasted into dust by you.”

He expected an angry comeback from Tony. Maybe even a punch (that wouldn’t be so bad, Steve could use a good fight). Instead, Tony looked away. He seemed to crumple as he said, “I don’t… I can’t hash this out with you right now. I had a kid die in my arms. And Pepper… Pepper’s gone.”

Steve immediately dropped his hackles and strode forward to put his arms around Tony, trying to offer what little comfort he could. He clamped down on the small, bitter part of him that resented how this shared grief seemed to invalidate his anger, to force him to “all is forgiven” long before he was ready for it. It was thoughts like that one, he reminded himself, that were why he had chosen to allow Captain America to once again subsume Steve Rogers.

Later that day, Tony returned his shield. It confirmed for Steve that he had made the correct decision.

* * *

Captain America was expected to be the one to speak for those who have been lost. He spoke of T’Challa’s grace, of Sam’s fortitude, of Wanda’s sacrifice. Tony, eerily quiet and withdrawn, had looked to Steve to be his voice. So Steve spoke of Peter’s goodness, of Strange’s humanity, of Pepper’s spark.

There was only one name that, no matter how hard his strings were pulled, Steve could not bring himself to speak.

Shuri spoke for Bucky. The new queen of Wakanda told the world that James Buchanan Barnes had been a good man who overcame seemingly impossible odds to ensure that he remained a good man. She told them he had become a man of peace, and yet, when called upon, had returned to his role as a soldier and given his life trying to protect them all.

Captain America bore witness, solemn and stoic.

Steve went to his room and cried. He stopped only when he had no tears left, when his sobs had turned into dry heaving on the floor. Then, he climbed into bed and tried to will himself to sleep.

He soothed himself with possibilities. Maybe he would wake up and this will have all been a dream. Maybe he’d wake up as a man strong enough to shoulder this burden. Maybe he’d wake up numb. Maybe he wouldn’t wake up at all.

Sleep did not come. Each time his mind began to go blank, another paroxysm of sadness racked his body. It refused to be willed away.

Steve reminded himself that he had no right to such grief. He had gotten Bucky back once already, wasn’t that enough for him? He had wasted the chance and deserved whatever pain resulted from that. Every person in the world had lost someone they loved. He was unique only in that he possessed some power to help ease the others’ pain, but here he was, locked in his room, caught up in his own anguish. He muttered disgustedly to himself, “how selfish can you be?”

“It’s not selfish, Steve.”

Steve froze. That was Bucky’s voice, clear as day.

“I know this has always been a hard concept for you to grasp, but serum or no, you’re human just like everyone else.”

“Buck?” Steve whispered to the emptiness.

“Yeah, Stevie. Goddamn, it’s like you’re right here with me.”

Steve sat up and looked around wildly. There was nothing there. Obviously. He struggled for control of himself. _Okay, so you’re hallucinating. Come on, pull it together._ He fully intended to not say another word, to let the temporary insanity pass.

Instead, he found himself sinking back on the bed and speaking aloud again. “Why’d you have to leave me again? I don’t think I can take it this time.”

“Hey, you’re the one who left me.”

Ah, there was Steve’s guilty conscience once again rearing its head. After he had learned Bucky was alive the first time, Steve had been rife with guilt over not going back for him. Sam had told Steve that he had to learn to shut out that voice because, if he engaged with the guilt, he would drive himself crazy. Obviously, Sam had been right. 

“Steve…” 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry. You know I’d trade my life for yours in a second if they’d just give me the chance.”

“I know. And you know I’d do the same. But they didn’t give us the choice, did they?”

Steve found his eyes sweeping the room again. He knew there was no one there, but something about the timbre of Bucky’s voice made it sound so much more real than what Steve would expect his imagination to render. 

“It’s late, Steve. We gotta get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Steve sighed. “God, I miss you, Buck. Even when you’re dead you’re still trying to take care of me.”

“Sure, pal. Except I’m not the one who’s dead.”

Steve blinked. That was an odd thing for a hallucination to say. Obviously, his body and mind were in desperate need of rest. He had to sleep. But how was he supposed to fall asleep now?

Inadvertently, he found his mind drifting back to when they were young, when Steve would be sick and so tired he couldn’t fall asleep. Bucky would be nearby, as always, and Steve would ask…

“Will you tell me a story, Buck?”

Bucky’s voice was tinged with a sadness that had never been present in their lives before the war, but he gave the response he always had, “Sure thing, Stevie. I’ll make it a good one.”

Steve let his eyes drift closed as Bucky talked about the time in middle school when some older boys had stolen a crate of apples off the back of a farmer’s truck. They’d hidden it in the school basement and bragged about using the apples to make cider for a party later. Steve had found it unconscionable that they do so at a time when people were starving in the streets, so he and Bucky had cut English to sneak downstairs and retrieve the crate. The farmer was long gone, so they started passing the apples out to the homeless people who congregated by the jobs office across the street from the school. When a teacher caught them at it, she didn’t believe for a second that they hadn’t stolen the apples themselves. She dragged them to the principal, who insisted on interviewing them separately. All Bucky had time to tell Steve was to not do anything stupid.

“But it was you, so of course you were going to do something stupid. Probably out of some misguided sense of nobility.”

Steve smiled. He knew this story well. He had ended up telling the principal that the whole thing was his fault and his alone. Unfortunately, Bucky had said the same thing, so it was apparent that one if not both were lying. They’d both gotten suspended and were put to work repainting the entire back wall of the school building. It was grueling work and it had left Bucky’s shoulders aching and Steve’s back in knots for days. But it wasn’t so bad, really. At least they were together.

Bucky continued on with the story, embellishing and editorializing like he always did. It was so like the real him, so warm and intimate, that it almost felt like Bucky was lying in bed beside Steve. 

Some part of Steve’s brain tried to warn him that indulging in this fantasy was not healthy and would only cause him more pain in the long run. The rest of him figured that was probably true, but he’d deal with it in the morning.

For the moment, Steve sighed and let the voice that sounded like Bucky’s lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! I have the next few chapters pretty well planned out, so I'm hoping to continue updating this every couple of days. :)


	3. That Life Be Blotted Out Not So Completely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments. This took a bit more time to update than I'd planned, but it is also significantly longer, so hopefully that makes up for it!

“Bucky…” 

Bucky ran as fast as he could, but he was too late. By the time he reached Steve, there was nothing left of him but a pile of dust.

Bucky felt his breathing quicken and his skin go clammy. This was not the time to go into shock. He forced himself to take a slow, deep breath and let old habits take over. Shuri may have made him marginally less fucked up, but the Winter Soldier, with all his skills and training, was still in him. Bucky needed his dispassion now.

Status Report: Target THANOS not present. Codename BLACK WIDOW deceased. Codename HULK deceased. Codename NOMAD (oh, God, Stevie, no…) deceased. Codename? THOR deceased.

Conclusion: Target THANOS succeeded in his objective. MISSION FAIL.

New Asset Objective: Unknown

What was his objective supposed to be now? He had no goddamn clue.

T’Challa came running into the clearing, desperately asking Wanda what had happened. Sam’s voice echoed through the trees as he called out desperately for Steve and Rhodes and Natasha.

Bucky allowed it all to unfold at a distance. When T’Challa asked him to help locate any survivors that may be wounded or in shock, he nodded stiffly. T’Challa was wise and capable – he could be trusted. 

Bucky was grateful to have orders to follow.

* * *

 

Shuri had spoken to Bucky at some length about processing emotions. She brought in specialists to help him learn how to work through anger, grief, and all the other things that had been forced down and coiled up inside him, ready to spring loose at the slightest provocation. If Shuri were here, she would tell Bucky that he needed to let himself feel the pain of this loss if he was to ever move through it. Steve, hypocrite that he was, would agree.

But Shuri was not here. And Steve…

Bucky needed a distraction. T’Challa was busy trying to run his country and aid the rest of the world by day and mourning his mother, his sister, and his general by night. Sam was making extensive use of his training in grief counseling. He was too perceptive for Bucky’s comfort, anyway. So, Bucky sought out Wanda. She, too, had been an experiment, dehumanized and forced to aid her torturers. She had lost her brother and now her lover. Of all of them, Wanda was most likely to understand.

He found her in the palace gardens, eyes closed, using her powers to levitate a stone bench above her head. Bucky turned to leave her to her practice, but she spoke without opening her eyes.

“If you are looking for entertaining company, you’ve come to the wrong place, Barnes.”

“It’s Bucky. And I don’t need to be entertained. I do need to be distracted, though. How’d you feel about a little target practice?”

Wanda put down the bench and followed him to the extensive training facility that T’Challa had updated the year before with Bucky’s input. Bucky showed her a series of colored balls that a machine would launch into the air. She was to repulse the green ones, get the blue ones in a bucket, and make the red ones explode. Bucky would provide support by using a rifle to help pick the red ones out of the sky and free her up to deal with the others.  

After a few false starts, Wanda got the hang of the exercise. They were able to go nearly a full hour without error, even when Bucky began purposefully missing to force Wanda to work faster. By the time she said she needed a break, Bucky felt like he had at least slightly more control of his brain.

“You’re very good,” he told her. He kept his tone matter-of-fact so she was clear he wasn’t just trying to make her feel better. “Much more control than when I saw you in Berlin."

“Thank you. Vis taught me…” She trailed off awkwardly. “I’m sorry. You didn’t want to talk about them.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just figured you wouldn’t want to.”

“I don’t. But I can’t seem to stop myself from thinking about him.” She paused, seeming to contemplate whether to confide in him further. “Sometimes, I remember when I was nothing more than a weapon. They call what they did to me torture. It was painful, of course. There was much misery. But I never hurt this badly.”

Bucky laughed mirthlessly. “That’s the real torture, isn’t it? They fuck you up and you find yourself feeling nostalgic, almost grateful, for what they did to you. At least, with Hydra, you expected the pain. And you knew your value to them, so you knew it would stop before it got to be too much to bear. That there would be salve for the wounds.”

“My only salve now is that he fell to ash, in the end. The universe recognized Vision as a person, even if no one else ever had.”

“Fuck the universe. You’re what was important to him. You saw him as a person and that was all that mattered, in the end.”

“It’s nice for you to say so. He would not have wanted to be remembered as a weapon. But, we are all of us weapons, aren’t we? Perhaps those of us that remain should embrace that. The world could probably use the Avengers right now. T’Challa and Sam think so, anyway.”

“I don’t know.” Bucky shifted uncomfortably. “Can you even use the name Avengers anymore? It feels… wrong, without them.”

“What else are we supposed to do?”

“Everyone who might have had an answer to that question is gone.”

“What do you think Steve would have wanted us to do?”

“How the hell should I know?”

Wanda appeared surprised by his sudden defensiveness. “I thought… You two seemed quite close. You haven’t shed a tear, though, have you?”

Bucky felt something inside of him shut down at the question and his voice went flat. “Doing so would cause great stress to this body and leave it in a sub-optimal condition.”

“Hey!” called an irritated voice from the patio. “How many times do I need to tell you to quit it with the dissociation talk?”

Damn it. He was going to have to deal with Sam, after all.

Wanda came to Bucky’s aid by asking Sam for details about the work he was doing. Sam seemed to forget about his disapproval of Bucky’s coping mechanisms as he warmed to the subject. “And then there’s the damn tree. I don’t know if it’s like, developmentally disabled or something, but it can’t seem to do anything but introduce itself. I am Groot. _I_ am Groot. I _am_ Groot. It’s not-so-slowly driving me insane.”

“Maybe he’s not just saying his name,” Bucky ventured. “What if it’s like Mandarin or Punjabi, where the tone and pitch of the words are used to make the same sounds have different meanings?”

“That… actually makes a lot of sense. I should go talk to him again before he puts a root through another palace window. But don’t think you’ve successfully distracted me, Barnes! I’m coming back!”

Bucky believed him, so he was sure to make himself scarce for the remainder of the afternoon.

* * *

 

Bucky had picked a room in the palace to sleep in for now. He couldn’t go back to the farmhouse, couldn’t sleep in the bed that only last night he shared with….

He attempted to force himself back into a blank, meditative state. He was starting to prepare for bed when, out of nowhere, he heard a voice ask, “how selfish can you be?”

A jolt of anger went through him and he jumped up, ready for a fight, but there was no one there. The rest of his brain soon caught up and informed him that the voice was Steve’s. 

Fucking perfect. Clearly, he didn’t even merit a designation of “semi-stable” anymore.

Still, there was a part of him, somewhere deep down and fundamental to his core of being, that was incapable of not responding to Steve Rogers in distress, even if it was all in his head. He found himself saying, “It’s not selfish, Steve. I know this has always been a hard concept for you to grasp, but serum or no, you’re human just like everyone else.”

There was a moment of silence, then a whisper so soft even his enhanced hearing could barely pick it up. “Buck?”

“Yeah, Stevie. Goddamn, it’s like you’re right here with me.”

“Why’d you have to leave me again? I don’t think I can take it this time.”

Oh, okay, here came the guilt trip. Bucky did not have the energy to fight battles with himself right now. “Hey, you’re the one who left me.”

More silence. Maybe he’d successfully chased off the hallucination haunting him. _Good riddance_ , he thought. But he couldn’t help himself from speaking his name again. “Steve…”

Steve’s voice interrupted, sounding distraught. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You know I’d trade my life for yours in a second if they’d just give me the chance.”

“I know. And you know I’d do the same. But they didn’t give us the choice, did they? It’s late, Steve. We gotta get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“God, I miss you, Buck. Even when you’re dead you’re still trying to take care of me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. It was so like Steve to paint Bucky’s every action in the best light possible. Or, it would be. If he was still here. “Sure, pal. Except I’m not the one who’s dead.”

That seemed to shut the voice up. Bucky stripped and tossed himself on the bed.

“Will you tell me a story, Buck?”

That almost broke him. He was flooded with memories. Steve, small and sickly, a cold compress held against his feverish forehead. Steve, larger, curled around him for warmth as shells fell, too close for comfort but too far to justify giving up the position. Steve, exhausted but amped up from post-mission nerves, lying next to him in a too-small bed with the sound of goats bleating outside. So many years. So much pain. But only one answer. “Sure thing, Stevie. I’ll make it a good one.”

Bucky chose a story about heart, about doing the right thing even when it might look to others like the wrong one and about the bonds of friendship pulling you through the darkest times.

He listened for the voice again long after he’d finished the story. It didn’t speak again. But when Bucky listened carefully, he could swear he heard the soft, steady sound of Steve’s breathing. 

* * *

 

When Bucky woke the next morning, he became aware of just how close he had come to going completely off the deep end the night before. He could – and would - chalk it up to a combination of grief and lack of sleep. But the fact remained that he had, for at least a few crazy, beautiful moments, believed that he was really talking to Steve.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Even with all the time he’d spent in Wakanda trying to rebuild, he still wasn’t quite sure who he was without Steve. The only reason he hadn’t but a bullet through his head when he began regaining his memories was the thought of Steve finding him bled out on the floor. He’d have probably blamed himself, the idiot. The only solid fact he had known about himself was that Bucky Barnes would die to protect Steve Rogers. So, he’d figured he would force himself to live to protect him, too. 

But Steve Rogers was gone. The moment Bucky finally processed that, finally accepted in his bones that he would never see Steve again, would be the last moment he had a reason to keep going. Maybe this hallucination was his broken brain’s last-ditch attempt to give him one. 

He got out of bed.

Soon after, Doctor Strange, the kid who went by Spider-Man, and a group calling themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy had arrived with the news of Tony Stark’s death. Bucky didn’t bother pretending to mourn his would-be murderer. He felt bad for the kid, though.

Pepper Potts, Tony’s fiancée, flew in from New York that afternoon along with Spider-kid’s aunt. Pepper was a force of nature. She managed to insinuate herself into an advisory meeting between T’Challa and Strange without either man being entirely clear what was happening.  

The three made their way into the throne room to talk. Bucky remained where he was in one of the antechambers. It wasn’t his fault they were having their conversation within range of his enhanced hearing.

Strange briefed them on everything that had transpired on Titan. There was a long silence when he finished that was broken by Pepper asking, “So you gave up the Time Stone to save Tony’s life?”

“Despite the fact,” T’Challa added. “That we might have been able to stop Thanos for good with it in our possession instead of his?”

“No. We couldn’t have stopped him, even with the Time Stone. It was imperative that Tony Stark’s life be spared.”

T’Challa’s usually even tone betrayed a note of anger as he asked, “Spared only to be turned to dust a few moments later? He is gone either way, Strange. This way only ensured that half the universe went with him.”

Strange did not respond.

“Did you know that was how it would play out?” Pepper asked.

Strange heaved a weary sigh. “This is how it played out here. It is not the only way it could have. There are alternate possibilities, alternate timelines. All doomed to failure. I had to…”

T’Challa studied him a moment, then shook his head and moved to leave. “I have neither the time nor the patience to discuss metaphysics with you right now, Doctor. I expect you will come to me if any of this results in even the vaguest idea of a plan of action.”

T’Challa’s footsteps echoed and then grew faint. After a moment, Pepper asked in a quiet voice,

“Are you saying there’s a chance that, somewhere, Tony could be alive?”

“It depends on how you define somewhere.”  

Bucky decided that was enough of that and made his way to the training facility.

* * *

 

Bucky was tired to the bone when he returned to his room. He groaned as he bent down to unlace his boots.

“Oh, you’re still here?” Steve’s voice asked, confused. 

Bucky grew irritated. “Of course I’m still here. Look, I’m used to all different parts of my brain telling me to off myself, but this way is just too cruel.”

“God, no!” There was genuine horror in the voice. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

Bucky sank to the floor and banged the back of his head against the wall a few times, trying to clear it out.

“Buck? Bucky? Are you still there? Please, don’t…. Don’t leave me.”

“Fuck. You’re really trying to make me cry here, aren’t you? You’re such a sap, Rogers.”

“Hey, at least I’m not an asshole. Jerk.”

Bucky huffed out a surprised chuckle. He sat in companionable silence with the voice for a moment before it asked, “Hey, Buck? Why did you say last night that I was the one who was dead?" 

“I saw you disintegrate right in front of me, so I’m pretty goddamn sure you are.” 

“But… That’s what I saw. Not myself disintegrating, obviously. I mean, I saw you…”

Bucky found himself thinking back to the conversation he’d overheard earlier. “Hey, is Tony Stark alive there, by any chance?”

“Yeah. Nat, Bruce, and Thor, too. Why do you ask? You have an idea?”

“I’m not sure yet. It’s something I can’t quite make sense of. I’m exhausted right now, though, so I’m probably not thinking clearly. Maybe if you’re still here in the morning…”

He was interrupted by a chime on the vid-screen next to the door.

“Did you hear that?”

“No, hear what?”

“Apparently, I have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” asked Steve.

Bucky rose and pressed the button to show the video feed. Pepper Potts was standing impatiently in the hall outside his door.

“Stark’s fiancée. Pretty sure it’s too late to turn out the light and pretend I’m not here.”

“Give her a chance, Buck. She’s a good woman. Tough, kind, good head on her shoulders…”

“So nothing like Stark.”

“That’s not what I said,” protested Steve. “Be nice, Bucky.”

Steve was trying to sound stern, but Bucky caught the note of amusement in his voice and grinned. “No promises.”

He pulled on a jacket and opened the door.

Pepper looked up at him with a steady gaze. She had changed into something casual and understated that made her look much smaller than she had marching into the throne room. Still, her voice was firm as she said, “James Barnes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

She turned and was off before Bucky could formulate a response. He let her lead them down the corridors and out to the garden, which was empty this time of night. Even so, she waited until they were walking under a stand of pappea trees before saying, “I want to talk about the New Avengers.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling them?”

“That’s what the world needs right now. I spoke to Nick Fury and Maria Hill before I left New York. They’re compiling a list of ongoing incidents where the presence of Avengers could make the difference between victory and catastrophe. I came here with the express purpose of getting him the support he needs.”

“Okay?”

“Unfortunately, it’s become clear, even in my limited time here, that there is not a functional team. There’s just a bunch of scared, aimless people who are not using the powers they have been blessed with to make the difference they are absolutely capable of making. They need someone to rally them and whip them into shape. They need their own version of Captain America. They need a leader.”

“Sure. King T’Challa.”

“The king has a country to run and a world in need of aid. He may not like it, but he understands that he does more good as a diplomat than a fighter right now.”

“Sam Wilson, then.”

“Mr. Wilson is a trained PTSD counselor with clearance high enough to treat leading political and military figures. That is, not surprisingly, a specialty that is highly in demand right now. He will, of course, participate in the New Avengers project, but he doesn’t have the bandwidth to lead the team. And, before you ask, Peter and Wanda are too green, Strange doesn’t know the meaning of the word team, and the so-called Guardians are a mess, both tactically and emotionally.”

Bucky stopped walking and turned to face her, disbelieving. “You’re not seriously going to ask me, are you?”

“Does that really surprise you? I’ve read your files. You’re a trained Sergeant with experience leading units in the field. You have literally decades of combat experience and we’d be here all night if I started listing your areas of expertise in weaponry and martial arts.

“Did you skim past the part where I spent seventy years as a brainwashed Nazi assassin?”

“Their brainwashing no longer affects you and you are in possession of your full mental faculties. And, even when you were under Hydra’s control, they had you lead and coordinate missions because they knew you were the best at it.”

“I’m sure that’s a ton of comfort to the families of the people I murdered. It didn’t seem to give your boyfriend any pause when he was trying to blow my head off for what I did to his parents.” 

“Fiancé. And I am far enough removed from the situation to think tactically.”

“If he wasn’t a pile of dirt, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear it.”

Pepper ground her teeth, only just managing to keep her anger in check. “You are being purposefully antagonistic.”

“Yeah. Great quality for a leader, right? Look, I was never the one who was supposed to have the spotlight. I’m not capable of fully believing in anything. I don’t inspire people to follow me. That was always… That’s not me. Sorry you wasted your time.”

He turned to walk away and felt Pepper grab him by the metal arm. It was more surprise than force that made him turn back to face her.

“Listen, Barnes. The man I loved nearly died trying to kill you because he believed you were a mindless automaton. Steve Rogers nearly died protecting you because he believed you were more than that. Who do you want to prove right?”

“I have a slight preference for the latter interpretation.”

“Say his name.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you haven’t said it out loud yet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When I found out that I had lost Tony, I refused to say his name. That would make it real. It was all ‘Mr. Stark was a victim of the Disappearance.’ I handled the businesses. I used the self-destruct sequence on all remaining suits. And then I went to our bedroom and locked the door and I said ‘I miss you, Tony.’ I had been right – that made everything real. I cried myself to sleep that night. I’ve cried myself to sleep every night. But that’s the only way to not just stay functional but to stay human. Anything less would be an affront to their memory. So I will ask you again, Sergeant Barnes. Who do you want to prove right?”

Bucky blinked. His mind screamed the answer, but his mouth clamped shut. He felt himself surrounded by a barrier of anger and emptiness, the protective layers his mind had built over years of trauma. Actively pulling down his defenses seemed too much to ask for, what, a chance at redemption? He closed him eyes and remembered a quiet plea, a shield clanging against the deck before falling away into the water.

He opened his eyes. His jaw unstuck. “Steve.”

Pepper’s expression softened and her tone was gentle when she said, “I’ve always trusted Steve’s judgment. He was an exceptional Captain. But, more importantly, he was a good man."

“Yeah,” Bucky responded. “The best.” He felt tears begin to slip down his cheeks. 

Pepper stepped forward and pulled him down into a hug. After a moment, he felt her shoulders start to shake and wetness dripped onto his shoulder.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long they stood there, just holding each other and crying. He did not feel better afterward. But he did feel more like himself – or, at least, the man Steve had always believed him to be.

He supposed that was the best he could hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, Steve and Bucky finally start to put together what's going on...
> 
> I have a fairly detailed outline for ten chapters of this story, but I'm holding off on saying it'll definitely be ten until I'm a bit further along in the writing of it. 
> 
> As always, your comments are very much welcome and appreciated!


	4. Once More Familiar Paths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a brief mention of a certain orange-skinned president and a few of his cronies. It's less than flattering, but I kind of imagine that if you're here reading stucky fic, you're not likely to be a huge Trump fan. Regardless, if you want to avoid any political talk, just skip the first section and you'll be all good. 
> 
> Also, Steve's in a fairly messed up headspace this chapter and makes some comments and decisions he probably shouldn't, but he is appropriately called out by others or himself for them.

“We call ours the Disappearance.” 

“Hey, us too! Guess branding people think alike in any world…”

Steve laughed as he sat down on the bed. He had been having these “comparing worlds” conversations every night for two weeks, now. After learning that everyone he thought was dead was alive with Steve, Bucky had decided that they must be living in parallel universes that had split off when Thanos had snapped his finger.

Steve highly doubted that was what was actually happening here – him having a mental breakdown seemed far more likely than him and Bucky being the only two people who could communicate between parallel universes – but he went along with it because it was better than not having Bucky at all. Right? 

“So, who’s president in your version of America?”

Steve yawned. “Are you sure you really want to know?”

“It can’t possibly worse than what we have going on.”

“Well, Trump vanished in the Disappearance. Pence stepped down – rumor is he thought it was the rapture and was so horrified that Trump was taken and he wasn’t that he went a little nuts. So Paul Ryan is in charge. He’s not _terrible_ , I guess…” 

“Okay, yeah, mine is definitely worse. Right after people started disintegrating, Trump resigned via a tweet.”

“Tweet?”

“I shit you not. Literally, he wrote, ‘I did not sign up for this shit #resignation’ and no one has heard from him since. Pence, Ryan, and Hatch were gone and Trump had never gotten around to installing a new Secretary of State, so…”

“President Mnuchin?”

“It’s kind of a mess.”

Steve’s laugh was interrupted by another yawn.

“Seriously, Steve, you gotta take care of yourself. We’re done talking tonight – get some sleep.”

“Okay, okay.”

Steve turned his lights off and lay in bed. He managed to wait a whole five minutes before whispering, “Buck? You still there?” 

“Yeah, Stevie. I’m here.”

“Just had to check. I’m going to sleep now.”

* * *

Steve had to be up early the next morning to film a series of PSAs assuring people that their government had things under control. This was followed by remote interviews with a plethora of news segments and morning talk shows. By the time he had gotten the makeup off and changed into civilian clothes, Steve was exhausted. He was tempted to return to his room and see if Bucky was there, but he forced himself to walk in the opposite direction. It was important to keep himself at least somewhat grounded in reality. 

He entered Shuri’s lab to find Bruce and Tony standing over Vision’s lifeless body laid out on a lab table. “How’s he looking?” 

Bruce looked up. “Before they were attacked, Shuri was able to make copies of the various overlays that constitute Vision’s personality. Theoretically, if they were download those into this repaired unit, they could reactivate and…”

“Bam. Vision’s back.”

“There’s a problem, though,” cautioned Bruce. “The Mind Stone was serving the function of keeping those overlays in sync and cohesive, thereby creating a gestalt consciousness.”

Steve looked at him blankly.

“It’s what made him a being with a personality, rather than a highly advanced AI system,” Tony translated.  

“As of yet, we haven’t found anything that can even come close to serving the same function.”

“I see. Where’s Shuri?” 

Tony cocked his head. “Are you saying you don’t trust our ability to handle this on our own, Rogers?”

“I’m not _saying_ it.”

“Ooh, someone’s getting sassy in his old age.”

Before Steve had to come up with a rejoinder, Shuri entered with her Queen’s guard. She was not dressed in her queenly regalia at the moment, having opted for more traditional clubbing garb – a low-cut top, a short skirt, and high heels. Tony openly stared as she walked over to her desk to add another kimoyo bead to her bracelet. Steve looked away, feeling mildly uncomfortable.

“Something wrong, Captain Rogers?” she asked him.

“I, um… Is it safe for you to go out in town dressed like that? People might think…”

Ayo took a menacing step towards him. “Are you suggesting that the Dora Milaje are anything less than fully capable of protecting our sovereign?”

“More importantly,” Shuri put in. “Are you suggesting that an adult woman should feel ashamed of what she chooses to do with her body?  

“No!” Steve nearly yelped. “That’s not what I meant at all, I just…”

“Haven’t thought about how such pronouncements coming from the man who is supposed to be the very symbol of equality the sad but accurate hypocrisy of America’s stance on the subject?”

“Um…”

“Allow me to explain.”                                                           

* * *

“So I guess I was being ‘patriarchal’?”

Steve refused to acknowledge Bucky’s response of hysterical laughter.

“I was only trying to encourage good judgment! She’s just so young. I mean, I’d have said the same thing if she were a boy.”

“Come on, Steve. You are acting like a hundred-year old prude. She’s nineteen. Don’t you remember what we were getting up to at that age?”

“If I recall correctly, I was recovering from a series of complications arising from a bad case of pneumonia.”

Bucky sighed dramatically. “Fine, then. What _I_ was getting up to, then.” 

“Yeah,” Steve mumbled. He was hit with the memory of coming home early from an art class to find a young woman on her knees in front of Bucky. He was laying on the couch with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. Steve had frozen. He'd apparently been quiet enough to keep the girl from noticing, but after a moment, Bucky lifted his head and looked Steve dead in the eye. Steve had panicked and ran. The incident had never come up again. It really wasn't a big deal, but for reasons Steve chose not to dwell on, his brain had preserved the memory in unusually vivid detail.

"Are you blushing right now?" Bucky asked with no small amount of amusement. "You're remembering when you walked in on me and Caroline, aren't you?"

Steve, who was indeed blushing, aimed for casual and missed by a mile when he asked, "Oh, you remember that?"

“Come on, pal.”

Steve decided to shift the conversation. "You really liked Caroline. What ever happened to her?"

"She ended things later that month." 

Steve heard the verbal shrug, but couldn't help asking, "Was it because of...?"

"Nah, she never knew about that. It was something about not wanting a third wheel in the relationship. She wanted me to choose between you and her. I was like, why are you even bothering to ask? You know what I'm going to say. And she said that was the problem. So that was it."

"Damn, I had no idea. I’m sorry, you could've told me and I would've..."  
  
"It's not a big deal. Think it's pretty safe to say things wouldn't have worked out between us anyway."

"Still..." 

On reflection, Steve should've kept his distance more. Bucky's girlfriends probably didn't appreciate having a sickly little hanger-on following them everywhere. But Bucky had always insisted that Steve come along and Steve had never quite figured out how to say no to him.

"Anyway," Bucky continued. "Everyone deserves to let off some steam – especially people in positions of authority. Shuri is the most brilliant person I’ve ever met and she’s more than capable of handling herself. Let her do what she wants to do. And then go a step further and think about following her example. When's the last time you left the palace for anything other than an Avengers mission?"  
  
"Half the world disappeared. Are you seriously saying I should go clubbing?”

"Yes, absolutely. You have to find some way to relieve all that stress or you’re going to go crazy from it.”

“It may be too late for that.”

“Even more reason for you to get out. Go dancing. Let loose." 

“I just don’t think that would be appropriate considering…”

“There’s always an excuse, isn’t there?” Bucky interrupted. “You always blamed never having any fun on your height or your illnesses. But you’ve been tall and healthy and muscle-y for what, five years now? Has anything changed?”

“I still haven’t found the right dance partner.”

“Steve. You’re 98 years old and half the universe has disappeared. At some point, you’ve got to accept that there’s a chance you never meet that perfect girl. So you better live in the meantime, or it’ll be too late to have a chance with anyone at all. You know?”

“Okay, okay. I hear you.”

“So you’ll go out and try to meet people?”

“I’ll consider it.”

Steve could swear he heard Bucky roll his eyes. 

* * *

Steve had managed to avoid what were supposed to be his weekly check-ins with Secretary Ross for the last few weeks, but he hadn’t been able to find a good enough excuse today. So he stood with Rhodes in one of the palace’s telecom rooms, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. From the moment the hologram appeared, Ross’s epression was even more sour than it usually was. Steve braced himself for a lecture.

“Captain Rogers. When we allowed you to re-take the mantle of Captain America, there were certain expectations of the role in place. To be frank, both myself and President Ryan have been disappointed in your performance to date. You are supposed to be a beacon of hope. I reviewed all your interviews from yesterday and you look miserable in every one of them.”

“I am trying my best to project positivity and confidence…”

“And I’m telling you that you need to do better.”

“Sir, I lost…”

“We all know who you lost, Rogers. The traitor and terrorist you betrayed your country for. Spinning that in the press was hard enough without you moping around like a grieving widow.”

“Just what are you implying?”

“I think you know very well what our concern is here.”

Steve glared and took a step closer. “You want to say it plain to my face?”

Rhodes hastily interrupted before Ross could take Steve up on that. “You know what? I think we all get the gist here and are past the point where further conversation is going to be particularly helpful. So, I’m going to go ahead and end the call, Sir.” He barely waited for Ross’s irritated nod before doing so.

Steve was still fuming when Rhodes finished fussing with the telecom equipment. “Can you believe him?”

“Look, they’re assholes, no getting around that. But they’re not entirely wrong about the image thing.”

“I have been trying my best to seem confidant and positive.”

“Got it. Is there, um, any way you could try a little harder? You radiate misery, dude.”

“I, for one, think it’s refreshing.”

Steve whirled and glanced around in alarm before spotting the raccoon who was called Rocket skulking in a corner.

Rhodes frowned. “Have you been there the whole time?”

Rocket ignored him and continued, “Every leader everywhere is all about projecting positivity. Like, I get it, they don’t want to whole world to up and kill themselves. But do they stop and think for a second that, just maybe, people want to know they’re not alone? That feeling despair doesn’t make them broken or unpatriotic or any of that bullshit?”

Rhodes tilted his head. “That’s surprisingly insightful for a ferret.”

“Listen, pal…”

Steve hastily stepped between the two. “You’re not wrong, Rocket. People do need someone like that. But that’s not the role Captain America was designed to fulfill.” 

“Can you actually articulate what role that is?” asked Rocket. “Cause, if not, I kinda wonder what the point is of having it at all.”

* * *

 “I’m still stuck on the fact that you even agreed to take on that mantle again in the first place. I thought you were done with all that?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Bucky,” Steve said irritably. “You said I should relax. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“So. Did you shave the beard?”

“I shaved the beard.”

“I don’t know. I kind of liked it. Made you look dark and mysterious. Maybe even a little dangerous.”

“And that was a good thing?”

“I guess that depends on whether you’re more into the upstanding boy scout you can bring home to ma or the sexy bad boy who might do you in an alley.”

Steve diligently did not allow the mental image of him and Bucky together in an alley invade his mind. Much. “And which type do you prefer?”

He pitched it as a joke, fully expecting Bucky to wax on about girls in high heels and leather. So he was surprised to hear Bucky’s voice drop low as he responded, “I’d take you any way you wanted, Stevie.”

Steve blinked. That was… a joke, right? Bucky couldn’t possibly mean what Steve thought he meant. And, if he did, that was just more evidence that his presence was all in Steve’s head. This had to be insanity because the real Bucky had never spoken to him in that warm rasp that made Steve’s mind lurch back to the image of the alley, where he was something wild and dangerous, where he didn’t hesitate to push Bucky up against a wall and see his eyes flash hungrily under the flickering street lights as Steve claimed his mouth and swallowed his moan, pushing a leg between his thighs and finding them both hard and wanting…

“Uh, Steve? You still there? I was kidding, pal, don’t go all pearl-clutchy on me.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open. What the fuck had that been? Was having a sexual fantasy about your dead best friend a normal part of the grieving process? He somehow doubted it. He had to get out of this room. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. You’re a real Charlie Chaplin. Look, I’m feeling kind of restless. I’m gonna go for a walk or something, alright?”

“Yeah, sure. Talk to you later.” Steve decided he was imagining the note of disappointment in Bucky’s voice.

Steve took a deep, steadying breath once he’d left the room. He felt overheated, a tense energy thrumming through him. For lack of anywhere better to go, he made his way across the palace grounds to the training facility. Maybe a good session with the punching bags would dissipate his restlessness.

Steve entered to find Thor standing at the far edge of the sparring mats, facing away from him. He was uncharacteristically still and his head was bowed. Steve quieted his footsteps and began to move away and allow the man some privacy for his grief, but Thor turned and immediately forced a cheery demeanor. “Friend Rogers! How are you this fine evening?”

Steve, bizarrely, found himself reflecting on what Rocket had said earlier. “You don’t have to do that, Thor. You lost everyone. It’s okay for you to be grieving.”

“Sound - if hypocritical - advice.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it? I, too, lost brothers.” 

Too quickly, Steve corrected, “he’s not my brother.”

Thor looked at him with far too much understanding for Steve’s liking and said gently, “I refer not to biological siblings but to battle brothers – men and women who have fought by your side, who have bled and wept for you, who have leaned on you and carried you. On Asgard, there was no greater bond. Few losses are more deeply felt than those of such companions. We have both lost many.”

Steve nodded stiffly, not trusting his voice enough to respond.

Thor gave him a moment to collect himself, then said, “Now that you have regained your shield, shall we spar?” 

Steve grinned and took up his shield, relieved to give himself over to the familiar rhythms of a fight. Whether because of his extended time without the shield or his emotional exhaustion, Steve’s movements where a touch slower than they had been and Thor soon gained the upper hand. When Thor finally knocked his shield aside, Steve dropped his guard, assuming that to be the end of the match as it had been in the past. Instead, Thor kept coming at him. Steve readjusted for hand-to-hand combat. 

“You seem disconcerted,” Thor mused without missing his shot at a jab to Steve’s left flank.

“No, this is good. You always used to stop if I lost the shield when we sparred.”

“I’ve come to see such tools in a different light since I lost Mjolnir. It was a weapon and a symbol that I had allowed to become a crutch. Neither a weapon nor a symbol are the defining factor of a man.” 

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Steve said bitterly. “There’s no one left who knows the man. Least of all me.” 

“If I may? Honesty is often a prerequisite for knowledge, even – and perhaps especially – of the self.” 

“You think I’m not being honest?”

Thor gave him a look that was almost pitying. “Do you really think you are?

* * *

Steve slept on a couch in an empty administrator’s office that night and spent the next day back in the training facility. He wasn’t avoiding his room, per se. He just had other places it was more important to be. 

When Tony, Nat, Bruce, and Thor had swung by to invite him out with them that night, he tried not to sound too reluctant about accepting. He felt a bit stir crazy and hoped the Bucky voice had been right that going out could help take the edge off.

Tony being Tony, they ended up at the most exclusive club in Wakanda. Steve was standing with his friends to order drinks at the bar when he heard a man next to him telling a woman about how his girlfriend had been “ashed” too and they might as well drown their sorrows together. 

Steve excused himself to go to the rest room. When he returned, there were only strangers by the bar. He shuffled awkwardly into a corner and looked around. Tony was in a roped-off VIP booth with no less than ten unusually good-looking, scantily-dressed people. Were those prostitutes? It didn’t matter – that was none of Steve’s business.

He dragged his eyes over to where Natasha and Bruce were tucked into a corner, scanning the room and speaking in low voices. Natasha murmured something that brought a surprised smile to Bruce’s face. He pulled her closer and leaned in to kiss her. 

Steve moved on to watching Thor at the bar, pounding back drinks and ignoring the women and men who kept trying to catch his interest. 

Steve looked away and wondered again just what it was he was supposed to be doing here. He could approach someone, maybe. He tried to remember how Bucky used to do it. He’d always been able to pull any girl that caught his eye with his charm and good looks. Steve definitely didn’t have the charm, but he supposed he was good-looking enough now. By conventional standards, anyway. Maybe that would be enough? And, if it was enough for someone, would he even want to be with that person in the first place?

He'd never attached much importance to having his “first time” be something grand or special. He’d been around the chorus girls enough to know that it was often quite the opposite, despite the best efforts of both parties. If someone was in a position to be at this club, they were not in a place to put in their best effort. Maybe that was fine. What did any of them have to lose, anyway?

He looked around the room again, trying to psych himself up to go talk to someone. There were some objectively attractive women in the club, but he couldn’t muster up enough enthusiasm for any of them to actually get out of his seat. He reminded himself that he was here to have a good time. There had to be someone.

As he began to give the room another once-over, a leggy brunette with delicate features approached him with a smile and an outstretched hand. He raised a hand to shake hers in an automatic gesture and she began pulling him towards the far end of the club. Steve saw Tony raise a glass to him and wink.  

Steve frowned in confusion. He was not really clear on what was going on here, but he always tried to be cognizant of his strength and size compared to most women and so was reluctant to forcibly stop her or pull away. While he tried to think of a polite way to extricate himself from whatever this was, the woman pulled him into a small, curtained room. She pushed him down onto a chaise before planting herself in his lap. She leaned in close and whispered “Hi, Steve. I’m Elyse and I am all yours for tonight.”

“Uh,” he mumbled, trying not to be distracted by the way her hips were already making small circles on his lap. “Look, Elyse, it’s, uh, lovely for you to offer, but…”

“Don’t worry, your friend Mr. Stark already took care of everything.”

Okay, so Tony had bought him a prostitute. That was bizarre. But was it a bad thing? Maybe this would make things easier. He remembered Bucky had offered to do something similar for Steve’s eighteenth birthday. Steve had looked up at him and declined, saying honestly that he’d rather spend the night with his best pal. That sounded more suggestive in his memory than he thought it had at the time. But that could very well be the result of the effect Elyse moving up and down in his lap was having on his brain. 

He made an effort to focus. No matter how good this might feel, he was fairly certain that he did not want to have his first sexual act be with a woman Tony Stark had hired for him.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is gonna work for me.”

Elyse stopped moving. “Don’t apologize. Perhaps we have someone else more to your taste?”

She got up and left the room for a moment, then returned with a tall, well-muscled young man wearing low-cut jeans and a virtually see-through tank top. “This is Antoine.”

Steve was opening his mouth to explain that this had all been a big misunderstanding when Antoine took a step closer and Steve found himself looking up into a pair of gorgeous blue-grey eyes. The protest died on his tongue and he stared, transfixed. 

Elyse hummed in approval and exited with a light, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Antoine pulled Steve up off the chair. Steve moved with him, pliant, thinking about how he was almost the same height as... 

Antoine began undoing the buttons on Steve’s shirt. Steve felt the stubble scrape his skin as Antoine ghosted his lips along Steve’s neck. Steve’s body was definitely taking an interest. Maybe this was what he needed. Maybe this would make the voices go away. Hell, if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine…

Steve opened his eyes. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Antoine was an incredibly attractive man, but he wasn’t what Steve wanted. Not really. If he went through with this, he’d be imagining a different pair of blue-grey eyes gazing longingly into his, different hands undressing him. Whether Tony had paid this man or not, he was a human being. He didn’t deserve to be used as a substitute for a dead man who may not have even wanted Steve this way to begin with. It would be disrespectful both to him and to Bucky’s memory.

“Stop.”

Antoine immediately ceased his ministrations. “Is everything alright?” 

“No. I mean, you were, uh, doing great and I really appreciate it, I just… can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure you get paid regardless.”

Antoine stood up, confused, shooting a meaningful glance at Steve’s lap. 

“I mean, I _can_. But I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just, uh… can you give me a minute?”

“Of course. If I may, though? Whoever he is, you’re gonna have to let him go, one way or another. It’s not healthy to walk with ghosts. Trust me on that.”

Steve took a moment to calm down and collect himself. God, he was going crazy, wasn’t he? He had come so close to making a horrible mistake. He thought about Tony, who was likely in the same situation. Tony was probably drunk already. What would he think of himself in the morning if he went through with things?

Steve left the curtained room and made his way over to Tony, who had a gorgeous blonde woman gyrating in his lap. Steve awkwardly approached from the side and tapped him on the shoulder, earning him confused and irritated looks from both parties. The woman tentatively stood up and stepped back.

Tony scowled up at him. “Kind of busy here, Rogers.”

“Tony, I don’t think you really want to do this.”

Tony moved the blonde to the side and rose to look Steve in the eye. His eyes flashed dangerously. “And why is that?”

“I’m just trying to be a good friend here. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. I mean…” Steve lowered his voice. “Pepper…" 

“They’re dead, Steve!” Tony snapped. “Try to get it through your thick skull that they are never coming back.”

Steve was filled with the sudden, intense desire to punch Tony Stark in the face. With no small effort, he kept himself still until the urge had passed. He’d been witness to too many bar fights arise out of the heady combination of drink and arousal. He was the one who broke them up and tended to split knuckles and bloody noses after, not the one who split and bloodied himself in the first place. 

Without responding further, Steve turned and made his way to the exit. He stepped outside to find Natasha leaning against the wall, waiting for Bruce to flag down a taxi.

“That was fast,” she said dryly. “I’d have thought Tony would spring for at least a full hour.” 

“Were you in on that?”

“No. But I got the gist of the situation faster than you.”

“Give me a heads up next time. Could’ve spared me an awkward situation.”

“Thought you came out tonight to have a good time?”

“I did. But I realized I’d have a better one with some peace, quiet, and a good book. So I’m off.”

Before he could leave, Natasha grabbed his arm. Her wry smile had been replaced with a look of genuine concern. “Steve. Tell me you’re not leaving to go talk with the voice in your head.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“But you did, presumably because you recognized how unhealthy it was. I’m not saying you need to go sleep with a hooker, but _that_ is not the way to cope.”

Steve had had enough. “And who are you to tell me about healthy coping mechanisms?”

“Steve, I know how much Barnes meant to you, but there are other people out there…”

“You know what, Natasha? You find me one who stood by my side before the serum and then kept fighting to do so for a hundred years, you let me know. Until then, I’m going to go on ‘coping’ however I damn well please. Captain America always goes where you tell him when you tell him and says what you tell him to. Steve Rogers doesn’t share that obligation.”

Steve stormed away, reveling in the heady glow of justified anger. But the longer he walked in the cool night air, the less justified it felt. By the time he arrived back to the palace, he was ready to admit to himself that Natasha was right. He couldn’t keep living like this. And the solution to his problem was painfully clear. 

* * *

 “Bucky?” 

“Steve! I was worried about you.”

“I took your advice and went out to a club.”

“Great, how’d it go?” 

“I left early. And it wasn’t because I was uncomfortable or unhappy. I left because I’d rather be here talking to you. And that’s… that’s a problem, Buck. It’s not healthy. I’ve been avoiding getting help for whatever this is that’s going on in my brain because I don’t really want it to be fixed. But that’s just as selfish as what any of the rest of them are doing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Steve,” Bucky protested. “You’ve never been selfish.”

“I am when it comes to you.” Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, hating the next words he knew he needed to say. “That’s why I need to let you go.” 

Bucky was quiet a moment and Steve was beginning to wonder if that had really been all he had to do when he heard the voice say, “I get it, pal. Only problem is, I’m not so sure that’s something you have control over.”

“So, I am crazy.”

“No, I mean… I’ve been worried, too. I really thought I was cracking up. I went to Wanda and had her take a look in my head, check for damage or abnormalities or anything that might produce an aural hallucination. There was nothing.”

“So, what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I think there’s a chance this is real. That you’re actually you, just stuck in some sort of parallel world I can’t see.”

“That sounds crazy.”

“Crazier than a giant purple space monster snapping his fingers to turn half the planet to dust?”

“Look. I want this to be real more than anything. But that’s exactly why I can’t trust it. If this is in my head, of course I’d come up with reasons to justify it continuing.”

“Okay, how about this? Do you have my Wakandan citizen ID number memorized?”

“Of course not." 

“So let’s do this. I’m going to tell it to you. You write down what I’m saying and then look the number up in the system. Compare the two. That’d be a fair test, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes as the voice in his head proceeded to recite a string of random numbers, but he dutifully wrote them down in his notebook. _Why the hell not?_ he thought as he opened up his laptop and pulled up a directory. If anything, it might make his subconscious calm the hell down when he was confronted with the inevitable discrepancy.

“Do you need me to repeat the numbers?” Bucky asked impatiently.

“No, no, I heard you. Give me a…” Steve trailed off as he pulled up Bucky’s ID number and found himself staring at the chain of numbers the voice had recited.

Steve slammed the computer shut. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be some sort of…

“Steve, did you find it? Are you okay?”

Steve opened the laptop again, but the numbers remained identical to the ones in his notebook. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. 

“Oh, God.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with me on this! I started a new job this week and so the writing is going a little slower than I had anticipated, but I'm still hoping to update at least weekly. This story has basically taken over my brain, so any times that I'm not working or sleeping, I am writing this. :)


	5. The Sage's Way

Steve’s first instinct had been that they should tell someone. Anyone. Maybe everyone.

Bucky was more cautious. He had too much experience with how much more crushing disappointment could be if there was hope in the first place. He wondered, sometimes, if he might have been able to resist his transformation into the Winter Soldier if Steve had never rescued him from Azzano. He may have been content to linger in pain and even to die without any hope of rescue, content in the knowledge that Steve was safe in their Brooklyn apartment. But since Steve had come for him once, he had been unable to douse the ember of hope that Steve might once again save him after he was recaptured. When they showed him the reports of Steve’s death, it was such a stupidly noble story that Bucky knew it to be true. All at once, the ember had been not just doused, but brutally crushed, ground down into specks to scatter like dust. All that remained of Bucky had crumbled with it.

So, no, they would not tell anyone about this until they were certain that not only was this real, but also there was a chance it could have an impact on anyone but the two of them.

Instead, Bucky opted for them to start out by testing the parameters of whatever this was. He and Steve determined fairly easily that they could hear each other’s voices, but not anyone else’s or any other sounds from the parallel world. They learned that, no matter how hard they strained their eyes, they were incapable of seeing each other. Bucky thought he felt something when they stood in exactly the same location, but chalked it up to wishful thinking when Steve said he didn’t feel anything.

The next step was determining if they could still hear each other outside of the bedroom. They waited until 2am to reduce the likelihood of anyone else being around. When they stepped into the hallway, they could still hear each other. When Bucky went back in the room and Steve stayed outside, they no longer could unless Bucky raised his voice significantly. It was basically the same as if Steve was actually there, just… not.

Bucky no longer believed in God, but he thanked whatever entity might be out there that he and Steve had both chosen the same palace room to reside in. If they hadn’t, they might not have ever known they could communicate at all. Bucky reflected that might have been for the best, but he couldn’t bring himself to put any feeling behind the thought.

He and Steve decided to take a walk to confirm that the source of the link between them was indeed in themselves and not based in the room. They chose the labs, figuring they were both a good distance away and the least likely places to be occupied at this time of night.

When he arrived, Bucky stepped into the darkened room and asked, “You here?” 

As Steve responded “yep,” another, female voice simultaneously said, “James? Is that you?” 

Bucky turned on a light. Pepper looked up at him, her face ghostly radiant in the glow of the tablet screen.

“Oh, hi, Pepper.”

“Pepper!” Steve called out excitedly. “Can you hear me, Pepper?" 

She apparently could not, as she looked steadily at Bucky and simply said, “Insomnia?” 

“Something like that.” 

She nodded and got up from the desk, moving towards him.

Bucky took an unconscious step back. “I’ll let you get back to…”

“While I have you – have you considered my offer?”

“I need more time.”

“Wait, time for what?” Bucky ignored Steve for the moment.

Pepper sighed. “I don’t think we have much more time to take. The past two weeks have made it painfully clear that the New Avengers are not a cohesive team without a leader. Hell, the Guardians refuse to officially be part of the team and Strange won’t even show up to meetings. The only reason he’s still in Wakanda because T’Challa gave him an office and access to the restricted section of the palace library.”

“All of that only goes to show that you need someone who is actually qualified to lead.” 

“Bucky, are they asking you to lead the Avengers there?” Steve piped in. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not now,” Bucky gritted.

Pepper narrowed her eyes at him. “You can at least train them, can’t you?”

“I don’t…” 

“I heard you’ve been training with Wanda pretty extensively.”

“That’s different…”

“Unless ‘training’ was a euphemism?”

Bucky sputtered indignantly for a moment before saying, “Of course it wasn’t! She just lost the person she loved most in the world.”

“Even so. It’s not like I’d blame you. Sometimes, that’s what people need to remind themselves that they’re still alive,” Pepper said reasonably. “It’s a valid coping mechanism.”

She moved closer to him and Bucky smelled a trace of whiskey on her breath. 

“Uh, Buck?” came Steve’s voice. “Is she still there?” 

She certainly was. She began trailing a hand up Bucky’s metal arm.

“Hey,” he said, gently removing her hand. “I think maybe you’ve had a bit too much.”

“I know what I’m doing, Barnes.”

“Okay. Look, you’re gorgeous, but…”

“But you’re still hung up on Steve Rogers?”

Steve’s voice was curt when he said, “ _What_ is going on, Bucky?”

Bucky panicked for a moment before reminding himself that Steve could only hear his side of the conversation. For both his and Pepper’s benefit, he said, “I’m just gonna go, okay?”

Pepper sank down into a chair and put her head in her hands. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

Bucky headed for the door. Pepper’s voice was firmer when she called after him, “New Avengers training at 10am sharp tomorrow.”

He paused, gave a jerky nod, and walked quickly out into the hallway, hoping desperately that Steve had come with him.

“Steve, you still there?”

“I’m here,” he responded, but his tone was cold.

“Look, that was… There’s nothing…”

“Who am I to judge, right?”

“Steve. I mean it. I am not sleeping with Pepper or with Wanda.”

“I didn’t even realize Wanda was in the picture.”

“That’s convenient, because she’s not. I don’t even know what that conversation was. I think everyone’s just tired and desperate.” Bucky had reached the bedroom door. “Come back in the room with me?” 

“Fine.”

There was silence once Bucky had closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed. After a moment, Steve said, “This is why we need to tell people about this.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Pepper wouldn’t be feeling like that if she knew Tony was alive. Hell, last night Tony was with like five escorts. If he’d known…”

“That’s exactly why we shouldn’t tell people. You and I can talk to each other. Great. How does that help anyone? You want to go around telling everyone that their loved ones are alive, but they can’t see or hear them and will likely never be able to? What does that accomplish other than leave people feeling guilty about trying to move on?”

“But what if they could connect? What if Thor or Strange or Shuri are able to figure out a way to let everyone see and hear each other? What if there’s a way to rejoin the split universes?" 

“Do you really want to bet everyone’s futures on a vague possibility?” 

“Are _you_ really going to give up so easily when there’s a chance we could put things right?” 

“I just…” Bucky scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay, Buck.”

Bucky could picture the look on Steve’s face – the particular way he smiled when he knew he was well on his way to winning an argument. Bucky had always found it annoyingly adorable. He had a sneaking suspicion that fact had played a role in Steve winning fights between them as often as he had. 

“So,” Steve said tentatively. “They want you to lead the team?”

“It’s not gonna happen.” 

“But…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Bucky...”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve sighed. “Goodnight.” He waited a moment, then apparently couldn’t help himself from adding, “I just think this could be such an amazing opportunity for you and…” 

“I will put earbuds in, I swear.”

* * *

Bucky arrived in the training facility at 9:59am the following morning.

He made a quick sweep of the room. T’Challa and Nakia were already sparring with escrima sticks on a roped-off mat. Wanda and Sam were stretching against the wall as the Spider kid dangled from the ceiling above them. 

The so-called Guardians - Mantis, Drax, and… Starboy, maybe? – were standing in a far corner of the room with their arms crossed. Bucky was shocked that they’d even agreed to show up to this in the first place, so he thought Pepper should count their presence as a win, despite the obnoxious attitude. Groot had not yet arrived, but Mantis had been informed them that he was going through another of his adolescent phases and so his reliability could not be counted on. 

Doctor Strange was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found.

Bucky was preparing to get things started when he felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He turned quickly to find Pepper standing behind him in workout gear. Her usually direct gaze hovered somewhere to his right when she said, “Good morning, Sergeant. I trust you slept well?” 

“Yes, ma’am. You here to observe?”

“To train. I’d like to help where I can.”

“Okay. You have some martial arts, or…?” 

He trailed off as Pepper took a business card from her pocket, held it between her fingers, and proceeded to burn it to a crisp.

“Okay, then. I’m sure I will get the backstory on that later. For now, welcome to the team.”

She nodded her thanks and began to walk away, then faltered. “James. About last night…”

“Hey, we’re all doing our best to play the hand we’ve been dealt. I’m the last person who’s going to judge how anyone else deals with trauma.”

Pepper regarded him carefully. “So, we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

Bucky felt fairly ridiculous calling everyone to order - who was he to be in charge of anything? But Pepper had been correct that he had experience with this. He did his best to allow intuition to override his self-consciousness as he paired everyone off and got them started with some light sparring so he could assess their skill levels.

It quickly became apparent that, while no one was a complete disaster, training them to work as a cohesive tactical unit was going to be no easy task.

The Guardians were, unsurprisingly, participating only half-heartedly. As Bucky made his way over, he caught Starman grumbling about how there wasn’t even music. The second Bucky suggested that they could select music to be played during training, the man reached into his pouch and pulled out a cassette labeled “Awesome Training Mix.” Once Bucky had tracked down a member of the Dora Milaje who knew how to play a cassette tape on the facility’s hi-tech speaker system, their participation increased tenfold. 

That problem solved, Bucky walked over to where Sam and Peter were practicing punches and blocks. If missions went according to plan, neither would need to make much use of hand-to-hand combat, but Bucky had learned long ago to never rely on anything going according to plan. Cross-training was essential for all team members.

As Bucky was beginning g to correct Peter’s stance, Groot finally arrived. As he approached them, it became apparent that he was wearing black eyeliner and eyeshadow.  

“I am Groot,” he told Bucky defiantly. 

Sam chuckled. “Aw, look, Barnes. He’s like you in your emo phase.”

“I did not have an emo phase.”

Peter looked at him and then Sam in confusion.

“The Winter Soldier’s eyeshadow game was on point, trust me,” Sam assured him.

“That wasn’t eyeshadow,” Bucky protested. “It was tactical kohl.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Gerard.”

“Who’s Gerard?” Bucky asked, lost. 

Peter excitedly piped in, “Oh! He’s that guy from that old band, right?”

Sam just shook his head. “I hate both of you.”

* * *

“And then Ross was going on about new procedures for mission reports, so now we have to file an additional appendix to catalogue…”

Bucky allowed his mind to drift a bit as Steve continued talking him through the finer points of the Avengers’ paperwork. He appreciated Steve’s enthusiasm, though, and was always content to just listen to the sound of his voice. In fact, Bucky had taken to closing his eyes when they talked so it could almost feel like Steve was in the room with him. He could see Steve pacing and waving his hands animatedly - he never had been able to keep still when he talked. The low lights would cast Steve’s eyes as pools of deep blue and bring out the russet undertones in his hair and beard. 

No, he’d gotten rid of the beard, hadn’t he? That was a shame. Since he’d first gotten a look at it, Bucky had wondered what it would feel like under his fingers and his lips, against his skin. He’d never know, now. Not that he knew what it would be like to kiss Steve clean-shaven, either. The scene had just played out in his head so many times that it was basically on auto-play. The beard had added a novel element, unlocking a whole new array of fantasies for him to get off on and then feel guilty over. Like the alley thing.

Damn, he’d freaked Steve out with that. He’d played it off as a joke and he was fairly certain Steve had bought it. He had to have – he was still talking to Bucky, wasn’t he? It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Bucky had just been so sure that they had been on the precipice of something that last night. That if Steve’s phone hadn’t rung right at that moment, maybe... 

“Buck? You there?” 

“I’m here, sorry, drifted for a second. What was that?”

“I was asking how your training went?” asked Steve.

“Not bad for a first time, I think. They can all dish it out well enough. But defensive stuff, covering each other and themselves, that’s gonna take some work.” 

“As a wise man once said, ‘It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.’”

“And who was that wise man? Sounds like it’s pretty much your life motto.”

“You don’t know _Rocky_? We have so much pop culture catching up to do!”

“The kids who were around while I was recovering taught me the cultural references I had missed that they deemed most important. It was basically a mix of hip hop, memes, and Disney movies. If Kendrick Lamar ever rickrolls Moana, I got you covered.”

“I don’t know what any of those words mean, so you’re way ahead of me.”

“Not saying much, is it?” 

“Guess not.” 

Steve lapsed into silence, but Bucky knew him well enough to know he was ruminating. “Whatever it is, just spit it out, Steve.”

Steve sighed. “I know you said you had to think more on whether we should tell people about us. And I respect that.”

“But…?”

“But… I miss you, Buck. Don’t get me wrong, I am beyond grateful that we even get what we have, but it’s just not the same as really being there.”

“No,” Bucky agreed softly. “It’s not.”

“I know you don’t want to tell people about us. We don’t want to give them false hope. And as much as I believe hope can never truly be a bad thing, I get that. I really do. So, maybe I’m being selfish in wanting to bring more people in on this. But we know you and I will never be able to solve it on our own. We know people who maybe could. And if there’s even the smallest chance I could see you again or… I want to take it, you know?”

Bucky did know. “What were you thinking of doing?”

“Maybe we start by telling just one person. Whoever is most likely to understand the situation and provide some insight.”

“Stephen Strange,” Bucky said immediately.

“I never met him, but from everything I’ve heard, I was thinking the same. Would you be willing to go talk to him?”

Bucky considered. He thought about Pepper’s hand on his arm and the way her face would crumple if she knew her fiancé was still alive. He thought about T’Challa, pained by the knowledge that his sister was both an inch away and unreachable, even in her moments of need.      

And then he thought about Steve, his eyes and his smile, the way he smelled and the way he felt in Bucky’s arms. He thought about hands clasped and a steady gaze, about the ever-lessening space between.

Bucky didn’t believe Steve was even capable of being selfish.

But Bucky sure as hell was.

“Okay, Steve. I’ll do it,” he said decisively. And then, softer, “Wanna come with me?” 

* * *

 

Bucky found Doctor Strange in the palace library, poring over dusty tomes written in languages so old even Bucky couldn’t parse them.

Before Bucky could get a word out, Strange interrupted him with a crisp “not interested” without even bothering to look up from his books.

“Excuse me?” 

“I take it you’re here to follow up on Ms. Potts’s attempt to recruit me to your Avengers cover band?”

“That would be incorrect. I thought you could see the future. Shouldn’t you already know why I’m here?”

“Yes,” replied Strange irritably. “I should. I would if I still had the Time Stone. I was acting on the knowledge it had revealed to me when I gave it up, but once it was no longer in my possession, that knowledge faded. I have been trying every spell, every chant, every goddamn New Age meditation technique I can get my hands on to regain it. But alas…” He trailed off and allowed himself a moment to return to his usual state of detached arrogance. “So, no. I don’t know what you are here to tell me.”

Bucky summarized for Steve’s sake. “So, you used to know how to beat Thanos, but you forgot.”

The amount of visible effort it took for Strange to continue appearing placidly fixated on his reading brought Bucky no small amount of joy.

“You said you had an actual reason to be bothering me?”

“Okay, so, this may sound a little out there. I think our universe may have split off when…”

“Yes, yes, when Thanos snapped he created two parallel universes and the half of us that disappeared here are alive in the other one. I know.”

“You… know?”

“The energy signatures make it fairly apparent, yes.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone, then?”

“The question is not whether or not our counterpart universe exists, it’s whether it is accessible. Obviously, quantum decoherence would have already taken place. The barrier is closed and there is no known way to get there or even get a message there. There’s no point in telling people about a theory with no practical application.”

“Yeah, about getting messages across…”

Strange finally looked up and met Bucky’s eyes.

“I’ve been talking to Steve Rogers.”

Strange frowned, but didn’t immediately dismiss him. “You are certain?”

“As certain as I can be. We did some tests…”

“Is he here right now?” 

“Steve? He wants to know if you’re here.”

“Yes!” came Steve’s enthusiastic reply. “Tell him I said it’s nice to meet him. Kind of.”

Bucky repeated his words.

“Kind of?” Strange tilted his head. “Like he’s only kind of meeting me or it’s only kind of nice to meet me?”

“I imagine both.”

“I see. I have a number of questions for him. But first, an experiment. Please stand facing each other.”

“We can’t see each other, we can only talk.” 

“I would think two super-soldiers would be capable of figuring out how to use the sounds of their voices to orient themselves?”

Strange was incredibly irritating, but Bucky grudgingly had to admit he wasn’t wrong. He spoke to Steve and they complied.

“Okay, good. Now, get as close as you possibly can without being inside of him.”

Bucky hoped that his scowl wasn’t undermined by the blush that was probably rising on his face. Thank God Steve couldn’t see him right now.

Strange raised his hands and sent a beam of white light in their direction. The light spread out and formed a webbed barrier in from of Bucky’s face. It began to pulse and glow orange. Strange raised an eyebrow and made some notes, then dropped his hands and the light disappeared.

“I see. I need some time to explore this further. First - you two were separated during World War Two when you fell a theoretically un-survivable distance out of a plane, correct?” 

“Off a train.”

“A train? That makes much less sense.”

“Don’t know what to tell you – that’s what happened.”

“And Rogers was frozen after crashing a… train?”

“No, that one was a plane.”

“Of course, how silly of me. I will have many more questions, but it would be a great help to begin by determining if there is anyone else on our teams who can communicate. They may be unaware of the fact if they have simply not happened to be in the same place at the same time. Please inform your team and have Captain Rogers inform his that we should all meet in the lab at noon tomorrow.”

“Wait, you want us to tell everyone?"

“Not everyone – just the parallel Avengers groups, for the time being.” 

“But what if no one else is able to communicate? Won’t that just be painful for them?”

“The fate of the universe is at stake, Sergeant. Frankly, I don’t care how many dreams I have to crush or hearts I have to break to save it. Neither should you.”

Bucky couldn’t help but see the logic in that. He felt a rush of self-reproach. He had been so caught up thinking about emotional stakes. If there was anything worth retaining from his time as the Winter Soldier, it was how to be ruthless in the service of achieving your ends. That was what people really needed in a leader, wasn’t it? 

That type of thinking would never convince Steve, but Steve already wanted to do the same thing as Strange, albeit for a vastly different reason.

“Fine. Noon tomorrow in the labs.”

“Worst-case scenario, no one else can speak to each other and you two can serve as our trans-dimensional radio until I find a better solution.” 

“And if you don’t?”

“Then I hope you both enjoy repeating other people’s words.”

* * *

Midnight found the New Avengers sprawled around a palace rec room in various states of inebriation.

At dinner that night, Bucky had explained the situation as plainly as possible before spending the next two hours answering questions as well as he could.

Pepper had walked out abruptly after Bucky had confirmed that, yes, Steve had been with him whenever he’d been walking around the grounds at night.

Wanda had done her best not to crumble after learning that Vision’s body was intact on the other side, but even Shuri could find no way of re-creating his consciousness without the anchor of the Mind Stone. She just barely succeeded.

Shortly after that, Sam had looked around the room and declared that they were desperately in need of a stiff drink.  

Now, Bucky and Sam were the only ones still mostly upright on the couch. It was the first time they were having a real conversation since the Disappearance. Sure, they had talked, but the main thing they had in common was Steve. Bucky’s refusal to speak of him had therefore put a significant damper on any conversation they might have had. Now that Steve was known to be alive, Sam seemed to be taking the opportunity to ask Bucky all the questions he’d stored up over the last few years. Thanks to the special whiskey Shuri had developed to work on the Black Panther metabolism, Bucky was just drunk enough to answer them.

“Okay, okay. How about this one? Is it true that you brought along a date for Steve one time and, when he ignored her to go make eyes at an army recruiting station, you just shrugged and took them both home?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? A gentleman doesn’t leave a young lady unaccompanied.”

Sam snickered and leaned back. “I’m sure you were very gentlemanly that whole evening.”

“Damn, that was a good send off.” Bucky’s eyes glazed over a bit.

“It’s just hard for me to wrap my mind around a guy I met as ‘brainwashed cyber assassin’ being ‘Bucky Barnes, ladies’ man.’”

“Not just ladies.”

Hmm. He probably wouldn’t have said that sober. Bucky forced a smile as he glanced over at Sam to gauge his reaction, but Sam just shrugged. “I figured.”

“Oh?”

“Steve described you as the type of guy who wanted to experience everything the world had to offer. I inferred from there.”

The smile flickered on Bucky’s face. “Did Steve know?”

Sam laughed. “Nah, he totally blanched when I made the suggestion. But I’d always go ahead and ignore his thoughts on topics like that. We are talking about Steve Rogers, the most sexually repressed man in the world.”

“I tried to help him out.”

“Did you?” Sam said mildly. Bucky nearly kicked himself for the accidental innuendo. That last glass had definitely been one too many.

“I mean, I tried to set him up with women. It never stuck. He had something real with Peggy, though, that could have gone somewhere, but then…”

“Yeah. No one else?" 

“There was the niece, right?” Bucky knew Sharon Carter’s name. It was his right to choose never to speak it. “That looked like something.”

“Dude. Steve literally never mentioned Sharon before or since.”

“I took him out a few times in Wakanda, but…”

“What, women are skeptical of getting involved with a dude who stays within two feet of the man he arrived with at all times and then goes home to share a bed with him?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Bucky paused. “Wait, he told you that?”

“No, but you just confirmed my lucky guess.” 

“You’re an asshole, Sam Wilson.”

“Maybe. But seriously – and feel free to tell me to fuck right off here – was there anything going on between the two of you?”

Bucky thought about it for long enough that Sam went to retract the question. It was the very fact that he would have that made Bucky respond, “I don’t know. That’s the God’s honest truth. Sometimes, I’d be almost certain he wanted more, but then he’d go all shy or withdrawn and there was enough doubt that it never felt worth putting the friendship at risk.”

“So, you took what you could get.”

“Now you’re making me sound like the asshole.”

Sam was quiet for a moment, then said, “Look, man. It’s obvious he loved you. Loves you.”

“Sure. But is it like ‘we’re buddies bound by eternal brotherhood’ love? Or ‘I want to slam you up against a wall and make you forget your own name’ love?”

“Given the thought you’ve clearly put into that scenario, I’d wager it’s the latter for you?”

Bucky wasn’t sure whether it was the drink or the simple need to confess to _someone_ that made him respond with a quiet “yeah.” 

“Huh. You ever think it’s worth bringing up to him?” 

“Probably should have before. Now, I can’t even look him in the eye. If I couldn’t make the leap when I was able to actually gauge his reaction, I don’t think I have the guts to do it now that I’d be flying blind. Stevie was always the brave one.”  
  
“I don’t know, man. You went through some real dark shit and came out the other side still a fundamentally decent guy. Don’t sell yourself short.”

* * *

Even Groot was on time to the scheduled meeting in the lab the next day. Everyone waited in breathless anticipation as Bucky confirmed that Steve was there and listed off the attendees on both sides. Then everyone spoke at once.

After ascertaining that no one else present could hear each other, Bucky and Steve spent the first half hour of the exchange conveying greetings and queries between the two universes. It would have gone on significantly longer were it not for Doctor Strange interrupting with an, “Okay, we get it. Everyone says hello, I love you, et cetera to everyone else. Let’s move on to trying to actually get something accomplished.”

Strange ignored Drax’s outraged, “I do not say that to everyone” and proceeded to explain his theory on how the Infinity Stones had undermined Thanos’s intention while still accomplishing his goal. He was not entirely prepared to conclude that they were sentient, but he would not rule out the possibility that, having been essential components of the creation of the universe, the Stones would resist being made to participate in the destruction of half its life.

“After all,” he pointed out, “neither Mind nor Soul have any meaning in the absence of life. Given the specific spectrum of energetic emissions I observed when our two communicators were in close contact, I have surmised that it is, indeed, the Soul Stone that is responsible for allowing a line of communication to remain open between the split universes. This stone is intimately tied to the essences of life, death, and the conscious and unconscious exchanges between them. Therefore, I must conclude that such an exchange is responsible for the communication between the present subjects.”

Bucky took a long drink of water after repeating that one. He didn’t want to miss conveying anything important, but he was fairly confident there was a less verbose way for Strange to express himself. 

Apparently, he was not the only one to think so, as Stardude chimed in with a, “You wanna run that by us again in English, Doc?” 

Strange shot him a look of withering condescension, but deigned to rephrase his conclusion. “I’m saying that Rogers and Barnes have died for each other and the Soul Stone deemed that an acceptable enough ‘sacrifice’ that it’s letting them talk to each other. Is that simple enough?”

Sam looked skeptical. “We’re all superheroes, Doc. Pretty sure everyone has risked their lives for everyone else here at some point.”

“I said died for each other, not risked their lives.”

“Pretty sure they’re both still alive.”

“I mean that they both accepted death and were ready to die. There’s a difference between running into a firefight with the intention of getting you and your friend out and choosing to step in front of a bullet for that friend. The Stone would only accept the latter." 

“If that were the case,” put in T’Challa. “Then I should be able to speak with Okoye. She has stepped in front of many a bullet for me without giving a second thought to her own life and I returned the favor during the battle spurred on by Killmonger.”

Strange hesitated long enough for Steve to be able to get a word in. As much as he wanted a simple explanation for what was going on, Bucky couldn’t help but be amused by repeating the message. “Thor says that your supposition is impressively constructed for a mortal magic man, but it is certainly incomplete. He advises that you not tax yourself further with something so far beyond your understanding. He is confident that, between him, Shuri, Stark, and Banner, they can figure the problem out in its entirety.”

Strange huffed and made as if to leave the room, but he could not seem to bring himself to without getting in a final word to prove himself superior. “Tell them that, if they’re still having robot problems, they should speak to Wong about obtaining the Eye of Thoth from the New York Sanctorum. It is the only artifact I know of that might be able to serve as the anchor for Vision as the Mind Stone did.”

With that, he took his leave.

After agreeing to make these meeting a daily occurrence for the time being, the others began to trickle out as well. Bucky yawned and then downed the rest of his water. “We’re gonna have to invest in a shit ton of throat lozenges, aren’t we?”

“You’re telling me,” Steve croaked.

“I’m sure everyone will want to talk it through tomorrow, but let me know when you do what your guys come up with, okay?” 

“Um…”

“Steve?” 

“Uh, yeah. You know, I think we should let them hash it out a bit more. Wouldn’t want to jump to conclusions too quickly, right? Hey, I have to head out and, heads up, I may not make it back to the room tonight. Avengers stuff. So, uh, talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“What happened, Steve? Is everything okay? Steve?”

There was only silence.

Alone in the lab, Bucky frowned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was a lot of plot. Hopefully it all made sense and you’re still with me as we delve into the emotional fallout and the back half of the fic!


	6. Better Light Let In

Steve shifted in the unfamiliar bed, restless. He felt badly about the way he’d left things with Bucky. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. Thor had asked, seemingly out of nowhere, if he was in love with Bucky. What was he supposed to say to that? In public? Of course he’d panicked. 

He’d gotten out of answering it then, but in his mind, the question lingered.   

Steve turned over, his skin chaffing against the over-starched sheets. It was too quiet without the steady sound of Bucky’s breathing. He hadn’t realized how quickly he’d gotten used to it again. Sleeping close to each other had been out of necessity during the Depression and for safety during the War. It had also been out of necessity in Wakanda. Kind of. As Shuri had pointed out, it would have been easy enough to stay elsewhere or bring in a second bed. One could argue it was for safety, wanting to feel like someone you trusted had your back. 

Steve knew he was overthinking this. He was doing the same thing he’d done with the hugs, coming up with vaguely plausible justifications in an attempt to cover up the bare truth of it – that he just liked touching Bucky. He liked being close to him. He liked the way that closeness made his skin hum with an enticing mix of contentment and longing, the confused desire to stay right where he was and to get closer still… 

Steve sighed and turned over again, closing off that train of thought. This was not a question he had to answer tonight. As far as anyone – including himself - knew, he and Bucky loved each other like family. It was probably for the best to keep it that way. 

* * *

After downing three cups of coffee, Steve arrived at the lab the next morning to find Thor and Shuri conspiring. They were still in yesterday’s clothes.

He made as if to leave, but was stopped by Thor’s booming voice. “Steven! I do apologize if I startled you yesterday with the abruptness of my query. I have been made to understand that such sentiments are considered private matters among your people. I asked not out of any prurient interest, but rather because I am exploring a particular theory regarding your ability to communicate.”

Steve wasn’t really sure how to respond to that beyond, “Oh. Okay.”

Shuri attempted to clarify. “As Thor mentioned yesterday, the Doctor had only one piece of the puzzle. Yes, the Soul Stone deals with death, but that is not all. It also deals with love”

Thor nodded. “Legend has it that, to obtain the Soul Stone, one must be willing to sacrifice that which he or she loves the most. Love and death, intimately tied. So it is not enough for two people in opposite universes to have died for each other. They must each also be the one the other loves most in the world. Would you say that is true for you and the White Wolf?”

Steve shifted awkwardly. “It can be, like, brotherly love, right?”

Shuri muttered a skeptical “sure” at the same time Thor said baldly, “I very much doubt that.” Shuri looked at Thor meaningfully and, after a moment, he changed his answer to a tentative “maybe.”

“Well, if we’re talking about it being in that sense, then sure, probably. I guess you could say so.”

Shuri rolled her eyes. “Thank all the gods I wasn’t born until the 90s. The amount of repression going on here is just tragic.”

Steve pretended not to hear her and tried to focus on Thor waxing poetic about love and death. He was absolutely dreading having to convey this new information to Strange via Bucky so, naturally, time seemed to speed up.

The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by all the Avengers and telling Bucky, “Thor and Shuri have a theory about why certain people can communicate across the universes. He thinks Strange got part, but not all of it. He was missing a major component.”

He heard Bucky repeat that part to Strange with ill-contained glee.

“Thor thinks that the other piece is that the two people, uh, care deeply about each other.” He glanced over at Thor to see if that was sufficient. Thor shook his head pointedly. “Well, more than that. He thinks it has to be two people who, um… loveeachothermostintheworld.” 

“What? Didn’t catch that.”

“Who love each other most in the world.”

Steve tried desperately to shut out Tony’s ill-disguised snicker and the soft “hmm” from Natasha.

Bucky was quiet for a moment, then placidly repeated Steve’s words to Doctor Strange. Strange must have had something snarky to say, because Bucky angrily whispered, “That’s because we were not. There are other types of love, asshole. Didn’t you see _Frozen_?”

Steve made a mental not to look into whatever hip hop song, meme, or Disney movie that was. He desperately hoped it wasn’t about him.

“Anyway…” Bucky continued to Steve. “Strange thinks that is a solid foundation to work off of. Ugh, sorry, ‘of which to work off.’ Happy now, Doctor? No? He’s not happy, Steve, just FYI. He would very much prefer to have someone else be his walkie talkie. Yeah, pal, I’d really prefer that, too. Steve, he wants to know how things are going with Vision. Yes, I’m asking about the robot – how do you not know his name is Vision, you…”

Steve let Bucky continue his diatribe against Strange while he checked in with Tony and Banner, who had taken point on the Vision project. They confirmed that Wong had sent them the Eye’s schematics and that they believe hooking it up with repaired wiring and then uploading the copies Shuri had made of Vision’s data had a good chance of producing results. They were prepared to try it as soon as the Eye arrived from New York.

Steve conveyed the information to Bucky.

“Not quite sure why, since Strange couldn’t be bothered to actually learn Vision’s name, but he’s quite pleased that Stark thinks he can get Vision back online. I think that’s it for today, but, uh, I was hoping you and I could talk more? Like, one-on-one, maybe later tonight? Seriously, Strange, if you don’t shut the fuck up…”

“I’m sorry, Buck, but Nat and I have an overnight mission. There’s been a ton of restructuring in international crime syndicates since the Disappearance – I’m sure you’re seeing that on your side, too – and we got word of a pretty significant arms shipment going down tonight…” 

“Nice job, Cap,” said Tony sarcastically on his way out the door. “Why don’t you just go ahead and give the internationally wanted fugitive names, times, and exact geographical coordinates?”

“What…? That doesn’t even make sense, Tony. He’s…”

“Ignore whatever Stark has to say, Steve. He’s literally the only person I can imagine being more annoying than Strange is. What was it even like when you two were stuck together, Doc? I can’t decide if you’d kill each other or realize you were soulmates.”

Steve huffed a soft laugh. He did miss Bucky terribly, but the mission was important. Plus, he couldn’t help feeling relief at the inevitable conversation they’d need to have about this love thing being delayed a bit longer.

“I am sorry – I’ll be back tomorrow night. Maybe we plan to talk then?”

Bucky’s voice sobered. “I have my own thing tomorrow. Look, we’ll figure it out, don’t sweat it. Good luck out there.”

“You, too.”

* * *

A few hours into the quinjet flight with Natasha, Steve was forced to admit to himself that he was, indeed, “sweating it.”

It’s not like this revelation was some big surprise. Of course he and Bucky loved each other more than anything else in the world. They were all each other had left. It would be expected that there would be a deep, fraternal love between them.

And yet, Steve had balked when Thor had called Bucky his brother last week. You didn’t fantasize about necking with your brother in an alleyway. You didn’t almost have sex with a prostitute because his eyes reminded you of your brother’s. 

Steve had been an artist living in New York City. Contrary to what many of his younger comrades likely assumed, Steve had been well aware of the existence of homosexuality. He had never had any particular problem with it. It was just never a label he’d thought to apply to himself, even if the strength and tenor of his feelings for Bucky had made him wonder. When he fell hard for Peggy Carter, be had decided the question had been put to rest. 

That may have been too hasty an assumption.

None of that mattered, though, if Bucky didn’t feel the same way. It had been hard to gauge his reaction to the whole conversation without seeing his face. Plus, he’d been distracted by his argument with Strange. He had made some type of reference, though, hadn’t he?

“Hey, Natasha? What’s _Frozen_?”

Nat looked up from the rifle she had been cleaning. She was clearly trying to keep her expression neutral, but wasn’t quite succeeding at hiding her amused bafflement at his question. “ _Frozen_? Like, the kid’s movie with the talking snowman?”

“Um, I guess so? Unless it’s also a rap song?”

“Pretty sure it’s not. Why, you looking to reminisce about your time as an icicle?”

“No, I… Could you just tell me what it’s about?” 

“You’re lucky Bruce finds Disney movies calming or I’d have as much of a clue as you do. _Frozen_ is about two sister princesses. When the older one becomes queen, people learn she has snow powers and she runs away to hide in the ice. When her sister comes looking for her, the queen accidentally hurts her. The sister is told she can only be cured by ‘an act of true love.’ She goes off looking for a prince, but he betrays her. She sacrifices herself to save her sister’s life. This counts as an act of true love, so she’s cured. The queen learns to control her powers and everyone lives happily ever after. Except the parents who had to hear ‘Let It Go’ all day, every day for the next year.”

She smiled to show Steve she was joking, but he was distracted processing what she had said. “So… it’s a story about platonic love between siblings?” 

“Yeah. Why?” 

Steve took a deep breath. He was not going to let his heart be broken by a Disney musical. Bucky had always called him a sap – and he wasn’t entirely wrong – but this was just a bridge too far. 

“Steve? Is this about Bucky?”

“What? Why would you think that?” 

“When you get that sad, soulful look on your face, that’s usually what you’re thinking about.”

Steve shrugged, noncommittal.

“So, all this time you’ve been talking. Have you guys had the chance to straighten things out?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Steve.”

“Natasha.”

Nat sighed and went back to cleaning. She kept her eyes down and her voice went softer when she said, “Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. It just sounded so… insane.”

“Is it any crazier than a giant purple space monster snapping his fingers to turn half the planet to dust?” 

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “That was Bucky’s line, wasn’t it?”

Steve smiled and glanced away, caught. He opted to change the subject. “So, how are things going with you and Bruce?”

“It’s going well, I guess. As well as could be expected, anyway. Considering everything.”

“Huh. Anything you want to talk about?”

“No, I just… I don’t know if this is it for me. Maybe it is, who knows?” She smiled sadly. “Not every relationship can last ‘til the end of the line.’ Hell, most relationships probably shouldn’t. The trick is figuring out when you have a real diamond in the rough or if you’re only setting yourself up for eventual heartbreak.”

“Broken hearts heal, right?”

“Sure. But not necessarily the same way.”

“You think it’s not worth it?”

“I’m saying it’s worth being careful. For most of us. You’re in a rare spot, Steve. I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would change the way Barnes feels about you.” 

Steve had his doubts.

* * *

Steve returned from the mission the following afternoon. After taking a shower and filing the after-action report, it was still too early for Bucky to be in the room. Steve was aware that he should probably feel exhausted, but instead found himself feeling amped up and restless.

He went for a walk down to the labs and found Tony examining the readouts from the monitor hooked up to a still-unconscious Vision. “How’s he doing?”

“Strange’s Eye thingie seems to have worked. He’s in the process of coming back online. Hopefully we’ll be able to talk to him in the next 24 hours.”

“That’s great. How are you doing?”

“Do you really care?”

Steve frowned in confusion. “Of course. Why would you think I didn’t?”

“Thor and Shuri filled me in on what they figured out this morning. All the stuff about the Soul Stone and how and why you can use it. You know, I missed something yesterday. I was too focused on being excited and relieved. But I had some time to think today and I realized, this has been going on for a while. It must have been, for you to know so much about what it’s like in the other world. So, tell me, Steve. How long did you know they were all alive?”

“I… I didn’t, not really. I thought there was…”

“How long? A week?”

“More.”

“Two? Three?”

“A month or so.”

Tony clenched his jaw and then ground out, “And in all that time, you didn’t think of saying something?”

“I wasn’t even sure it was real, myself, I didn’t want to…”

“You saw me with other people. You saw me with fucking escorts, Steve, and you knew Pepper was alive and you didn’t say anything.”

“I tried…”

“Not hard enough! God. I don’t understand. The universe is a fucking joke sometimes, you know that?”

“Tony…”

“So you really not see the cosmic injustice here? You can chat whenever you want with your murderous psycho of a friend, while I can’t even get a glimpse of the amazing, kind, brilliant love of my life. And then to have to hear Thor go on about ‘the person you love most in the world’? Bullshit. Why you? Why do you get to be so lucky? It seems like such a waste, especially since that your personal life is so barren that the person you love most is an old war buddy.”

“He’s more than that,” Steve hissed. He was getting angry. He couldn’t help it. Who the hell did Tony Stark think he was?

“Childhood best friend, then.”

“More than that.”

“Current best friend. Whatever. The point is, it’s different. I love Pepper in every way a person can love another person, with all my heart, body, and soul. That’s what the connection should be.”

Steve turned away. He didn’t need to be having this conversation.

“Unless…”

Steve kept walking. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Steve turned around, fuming. “Yeah, that’s what everyone wants to know today. I don’t owe you or anyone else an answer.”

“No, you don’t. But you saying that is kind of an answer in and of itself, isn’t it? Gotta say, it really does make everything make more sense. Silly me, it never crossed my mind that friggin Captain America could be anything less than the epitome of heteronormative masculinity, but… Does he know?”

Steve was tempted to storm away dramatically. But if even Tony Stark had figured this out, there was no point in hiding it anymore, from himself or anyone else. “No. I never told him. I almost did, before Scotland. I was too much of a coward.”

Steve turned his face away. He was surprised to feel tears welling in his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the last few nights and it had been a long day, but… really? Crying? In front of Tony? He kind of hated himself right then.

After struggling vainly to get his emotions in check, he chanced a look back at Tony. He was shocked to see sympathy in his eyes. “Well, there’s nothing left to lost at this point, is there? Don’t miss your second second chance. Especially not when so many of the rest of us don’t even get a first.”

“Thanks, Tony. I wish you could have known him when he was himself. He’s so warm and funny… Smart, too – he always loved new technology. I like to think you might have been friends, in another life.”

“Hey, maybe there’s still a chance in this one.”

Steve nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“And Cap? Steve,” Tony amended. “I’m sorry.” He stopped there, no details, nothing elaborate.

Even so, Steve felt some of the weight lift off his chest.

* * *

Steve went back to his room and waited for Bucky to arrive, nerves building. There wouldn’t be any backing down this time – he wasn’t going to miss another chance.

He was so tense with anticipation that Bucky was barely able to say hello before Steve blurted out, “I love you.”

Bucky paused a moment before responding tentatively, “Yeah, I love you too, pal. That’s why we can have this conversation.”

Steve sighed in frustration. “No. When I say I love you, I mean I _love_ you. You… You’re the first thought I have in the morning. The last one at night. I’m physically pained with regret that I will never know what it feels like to run my fingers through your hair. You make me feel safe and warm, but also like tiny fireworks are going off in my skin. I… I want to hold you and kiss you and I know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s fine, and I hope this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I’ve just lost you too many times now to keep not telling you the truth. So, there it is.”

Steve heard a sharp intake of breath, but nothing else from Bucky. He tensed and braced himself for the rejection.

A full minute went by. 

“Uh, Buck… Did you, um, have any response to that?” 

“Yeah. I mean, fuck. Wow. I’m trying to think of something more eloquent to say than ‘ditto,’ but you seem to have blown a few circuits in my brain here.” 

“Ditto? So… you feel the same way?”

“Of course I do, punk. I love you. Don’t know how you could’ve ever doubted it.”

“But… But _Frozen_.”

“What?”

“I heard what you said to Strange and I learned what it was about and I figured that was a way of you saying you only saw me like a brother...”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t really seem appropriate to confess how I felt about you for the first time to Stephen fucking Strange.”

“I guess that’s fair.” 

Steve smiled and then full-on grinned when he saw Bucky return the look.

Then he froze.

He _saw_ Bucky. 

“Oh, my God. Do you…?”

“Yeah, Steve, I can see you.” 

“Me too.”

They just stared at each other for a few moments, drinking each other in. Bucky had shaved and pulled his hair back into a messy bun. His eyes were bright and he stood tall, owning the space around him in a way Steve hadn’t experienced much since Brooklyn.

Steve thought he might be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Bucky took a step towards Steve, then another, stopping only when they were standing directly in front of each other. He lifted his palm up and Steve returned the gesture. They moved as if to touch, but instead of connecting, their palms passed through each other. 

Steve fought down the bitter disappointment. He could tell from a glance at Bucky’s face that he was doing the same. Steve figured one of them should say something, but neither did.

Instead, both men watched as their palms flicked over and into each other, sharing the same space.


	7. And In That Act

Bucky stared. He couldn’t help himself.

He’d always been so vigilant about the way he allowed himself to look at Steve.

In his own mind, Steve was not something to be looked and and cherished. At first, it was because he was too small and sickly. More recently, it was because he believed himself long past being the type of person anyone could describe as sweet or adorable.

But he didn’t see himself the way Bucky did.

Steve stirred and stretched. This was usually the part where Bucky glanced away and either feigned sleep or made himself appear deeply fascinated with the patterns on the ceiling. He didn’t want to be caught staring and risk making Steve uncomfortable.

At this moment, though, Bucky couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

After all, Steve had told Bucky he loved him. Steve Rogers _loved_ Bucky Barnes. Bucky had loved Steve for so long that he’d left behind even hoping for that love to be returned. But here it was. And even if Bucky had his doubts about precisely what form that love might take, he had long ago made his peace with accepting whatever he could get.

Steve turned onto his side so he was facing Bucky. His gazed traveled along Bucky’s body and Bucky could almost let himself believe that Steve might be having similar thoughts about him. He could tell the instant when Steve woke up enough for his self-consciousness to kick in, as he glanced away and a blush pinkened his cheeks.

“Good morning, Stevie.”

“Hi, Buck.” 

* * *

Bucky was expecting at least some degree of surprise when he came into the library to tell Strange that he and Steve could see each other now. Instead, Strange looked oddly gratified. 

“I knew it didn’t make any sense that you two could hear but not see each other. What changed?”

Bucky refused to give Strange the satisfaction of stumbling over the words when he responded, “We finally confessed our love for each other.”

Strange had the gall to roll his eyes. “The whole ‘you can only hear each other because you’re the people the other loves most’ wasn’t enough of a hint for you?”

“I’m pretty sure you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re stunted idiots from the 40s. You connection is made possible by the Soul Stone – it makes sense that it would not grant you with all the access it was capable of providing until you actually made the leap of baring your souls.”

“Could it be taken further, then?” Bucky asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“What, like if you help each other jerk off you’ll be able to touch? I wouldn’t hold your breath. Or, you know, do, if that’s your thing, but it’s not going to let you touch him.” 

Bucky had no response to that save a scowl.

Strange shrugged and continued, “The robot still hasn’t rebooted, right?”

“No, but they are expecting _Vision_ to wake up any day now.”

“It’ll be great when he does. See, he and… who’s that Russian girl in love with the robot, again?”

“Wanda.”

“He and Wanda have already told each other they loved each other, so they should be able to both see and hear each other right away. So, Barnes, how does it feel to be less emotionally intelligent than a robot?”

“I don’t know, how does it feel to be a giant asshole no one can tolerate? You don’t even know their names. You would if you joined the training sessions.” 

“I work better on my own, thanks.” 

Bucky glared at him. “Let’s be honest here. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. I see no pressing reason that needs to change, so don’t think I keep inviting you because I want the ‘pleasure’ of your company. All this trans-dimensional stuff we’re doing is bound to attract attention. The closer we get to bridging the universes, the faster Thanos is going to be on top of us. We need to be ready. Are you really willing to risk that all of this comes to nothing because you didn’t bother taking the time to learn how to collaborate on a simple holding spell?”

Strange tilted his head. 

* * *

“He was at the very next training session.”

Steve beamed with pride. “And you said you wouldn’t make a good leader!”

“Don’t speak too soon,” Bucky cautioned. “Adding the cranky wizard doesn’t solve any of the problems that are already there. Like the walking migraine that is Peter.” 

“I thought he seemed like a sweet kid.”

“No, the other one. Starboy." 

Steve tried and failed to hide a touch of amusement. He used his best Cap voice when he said reprovingly, “You know it’s Star-Lord, right?” 

“Course I do. But when I call him the wrong name, he stops pulling his punches.” 

“You’re only proving my point here.” Steve was grinning again. “Sure, I may have been the one leading the charge during the war, but that was only because of the fancy suit. You were the one doing all the behind the scenes work – keeping morale up, keeping us safe. Every man under your command respected and admired you. This isn’t you trying to become something you’re not.”

Bucky shied away from Steve’s earnestness and tried to play it off. “You’re only saying I’m that because you’re like, in love with me or something.”

“You’ve got it backwards, Buck. I’m in love with you because that’s who you are.”

Bucky wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss the sincere smile off Steve’s face. He had to settle for murmuring a soft, “I love you, too, Stevie.”

* * *

Vision awakened the following day.

Steve found Bucky in the training room to let him know. Bucky called Wanda over and the three of them headed to the lab.

As soon as they entered, Wanda let out a soft noise of wonderment and rushed over to the empty table, beginning a conversation that Bucky could only hear one side of. He turned to Steve. “I imagine she’s talking to Vision?”

“He appears to be talking to thin air, so I’m guessing so. Do we look that strange to everyone else when we’re talking?” He paused and then chuckled. “Shuri is nodding her head vigorously, so I guess so." 

“Should we give them some privacy, maybe?”

“Yes. I have one of those obnoxiously long calls with Ross scheduled, anyway. Last time, he all but told me that the president wanted me to act less gay.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled with your updates, then.”

Steve just shook his head, but Bucky caught a glint in his eyes that made him sorry that he wouldn’t be able to witness the call.

Bucky joined T’Challa, Pepper, and Strange at the far end of the lab. T’Challa was in the midst of saying how wonderful this development was. “No offense, Sergeant Barnes, but it is already clear that they are more effective communicators than you and Captain Rogers.”

Strange snorted in amusement. “Offense meant, they definitely are. We’re subbing them in for morning briefings starting tomorrow.”

Bucky shrugged. He hated being a human walkie-talkie and was genuinely happy for Wanda and Vision, so Strange being a dick wasn’t going to drag him down at this particular moment. He was about to leave when he noticed that Pepper was studiously avoiding his gaze. 

He supposed he deserved that. A few weeks ago, he would have let it slide, but he was supposed to be a leader now - someone worthy of Steve’s love and admiration. So, instead of walking away, he took a deep breath and said, “Hey, Pepper, could I talk to you a minute?” 

She stepped out into the hall with him, looking wary. “Can I help you, Sergeant?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the parallel world sooner. I thought it was for the best, that it would only hurt more in the long run if we never found a way to break through. To be honest, I’m still worried that’ll be the case. But, if nothing else, I should have told you Steve was there that night. And I should have let it be your call what to do with that knowledge.”

Pepper finally met his eyes. “Thank you for saying that, James. I understand. I’m trying to hold out hope that we’ll be able to find a way to reunite fully with the other side. But, if nothing else, I’m glad that you and Steve have been able to get on the same page. At least there’s something positive to come out of all this, right?”

* * *

Bucky returned to his room in the late afternoon. He was in an irritatingly contemplative mood. Sure, he and Steve had admitted that they were in love. But did that really mean they were on the same page?

Steve had assured him he loved him in a romantic way, but Bucky still struggled to believe that love was sexual as well. Steve was so... pure. And the things Bucky wanted to do to him were decidedly not so. It was one thing to feel love for someone, to kiss them even; it was something else entirely to suck their cock. Moreover, to really want to.

Bucky wanted Steve so much he could barely stand it, but he would never take anything that wasn’t freely, enthusiastically offered. That was how it had always been in his fantasies – Steve dropping to his knees in front of him, flushed and eager. Steve teasing him with nips and kisses along his hips and thighs. Steve stroking Bucky’s hardness and licking his lips before opening his mouth to take him in. 

Bucky knew Steve would have had no experience with this, but he was a fast learner, flexible and eager to please. Steve would give Bucky what he needed. 

Bucky’s body was becoming very interested in this train of thought. He glanced at the clock and saw that he had at least an hour before Steve would be done with his conference call. That was more than enough time.

Bucky stripped efficiently and lay back on the bed, taking himself in hand and stroking himself to full hardness as he imagined Steve’s lips, wet with spit and pre-come, moving up and down the length of him. His Stevie, so beautiful kneeling there and taking Bucky in deeper, using those big, strong hands to hold Bucky’s hips still when he couldn’t keep himself from thrusting.

Bucky came with a groan. His head lolled back on the bed and he took a moment to return to himself. To fight off the guilt that always came after by telling himself that he was protecting Steve by handling his urges like this, rather than putting Steve in what could well be an uncomfortable situation. 

If they were really in the same place, Bucky might have a better idea. He could see how Steve responded to a kiss here, a touch there. To see how far they could go before it was too much for Steve. Without that type of feedback, Bucky had no way to gauge Steve’s level of interest or desire. It was better to stay cautious, move slow. To watch Steve carefully and study his reaction to various types of flirtation and subtle suggestion.

If Bucky was going to survive such experimentation with his dignity intact, he had to allow himself to release the tension somehow.

By the time Steve returned to the room that night, Bucky was fresh from the shower, browsing the news on his tablet with practiced nonchalance. And if the tank top he slept in was tighter or lower cut than usual, he’d have sworn it nothing more than a coincidence.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter are both on the shorter side, so if my increasingly crazy work schedule allows, I'm hoping to post the next one by the weekend. Fingers crossed!


	8. A Prayer Went Up So Earnest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than I thought it would - work has been increasingly insane. But no worries, the final two chapters are both already half-written, so I will be completing this fic regardless!

When Steve had walked into what he’d come to think of as their bedroom and found Bucky lounging on the bed with wet hair and a white tank top that left nothing to the imagination, he nearly turned right around and walked back out of the room again. It was just cosmically unfair how attractive he was.

Bucky was staring at his tablet and biting his lip in seeming concentration. Steve considered and then dismissed the idea that he was doing it on purpose - though the hint of a smirk on Bucky’s face suggested the thought might not be totally off target.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve sat tentatively on the bed across from him and began removing his shoes.

“Stevie, hi. Didn’t realize how late it was – must have gotten caught up in my reading. Do you mind if I do some stretching before we go to bed?”

“Sure. It’s your room, too. Is the arm acting up?”

“Not at all. It’s amazing – it’s super flexible, doesn’t throw off my rhythm at all, and I can feel _everything_.”

Steve swallowed. “That’s, uh, that’s great, Buck. What’s wrong, then?”

“Just feeling a little stiff, I guess.”

“Huh.”

As Bucky got up off the bed, Steve couldn’t help but notice that the sweatpants he was wearing were nearly as tight as the tank top. Bucky began moving through the vinyasa poses and Steve found his eyes roaming over his lithe body, taking in the flex of his muscles, the curve of his ass…

Steve stood abruptly and, with a choked out “gonna shower now,” he all but ran into the bathroom.

_Fuck._ Bucky had just been innocently stretching and he’d gotten so turned on he had to flee the room. What was wrong with him?

Steve started the shower and briefly considered allowing himself to give in and enjoy this, but he had a nagging worry that it would be somehow wrong to use images of his best friend in such a manner. Not unless he was sure Bucky had meant to be as suggestive as Steve’s eager mind had believed him to be. But that would involve having an actual conversation about sex and, frankly, another round in the Vita-Ray machine sounded less painful than that.

With a sigh, Steve turned the water temperature as low as it could go.

* * *

A few days and more than a few cold showers later, Steve was in the gym pounding away at a punching bag. He punched it hard enough to knock it off its chain. Another bag automatically swung down into place. He’d lost track of how many he’d gone through and his knuckles were on the verge of bleeding when Natasha popped up from seemingly out of nowhere and caught the bag. “I think it’s dead, Steve.” 

Steve tried to ignore her.

“Tell me what’s going on. The scene in there was… tense, to say the least. I actually agree with you that we should hold off on bringing the US and UN in on this for now. But there’s a legitimate argument for why we should and I think you know that. There was no reason for you to raise your voice or get physical about it.” 

“I didn’t touch anyone!”

“No, but I seriously thought you were going to take a swing at Bruce. And we both know how that would’ve turned out. Clearly, something’s up with you. All last week you were walking on air and now you’re grumpier than Tony. Did you and Bucky get in a fight?”

“No.”

“Did he do something that annoyed you?”

“No.” Steve knew he sounded petulant.  He felt badly enough about it and then Natasha’s judgmental stare broke him. “Kind of the opposite, to be honest.”

“The opposite? What... Oh. You mean there’s a different reason your body is all hopped up on testosterone.”

Steve nodded miserably.

“I see. Have you talked to him about it?” 

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Could you please do me a favor and try to look less attractive so I can focus on literally anything else?’”

“I was thinking more along the lines of, like, trans-dimensional phone sex.” 

“I can’t ask him to do that.”

“Why not? He’s your best friend and the love of your life. You’re both men hopped up on super-soldier serum. For all you know, he’s dying for you to ask and just doesn’t want to make _you_ uncomfortable.”

“I am uncomfortable!”

“Steve.”

“If we were in the same physical place and something could just happen, that would be different.” 

“Right, because then you wouldn’t ever need to express a desire. This isn’t about you being uncomfortable about sex; it’s about you not being comfortable asking for something for yourself. You grew up feeling guilty about always needing to be taken care of. The second you didn’t need that anymore, you created an entire identity that was about being manly and strong and independent. ‘Captain America single-handedly punches out Hitler’ and all that. It’s like somewhere along the way, you forgot that was all a lie for the cameras. Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes. And if you can’t trust Bucky to do that for you, who are you ever going to trust?”

Steve paused for a moment to take that in. “Wow. That was… Would you be offended if I said that was surprisingly insightful?” 

“Come on, Rogers. I’m an international assassin trained in psy-ops.” She smirked and then mumbled, “Also, Bruce and I have been spending a lot of time in couples therapy.”

* * *

Steve had left the conversation in the gym uncertain whether he was going to be able to psych himself up to follow Nat’s advice. When he entered the bedroom to find Bucky doing crunches while wearing nothing but gym shorts, the decision was essentially made for him.

“Hey, can we talk?”

Bucky looked wary, but only said “yeah, sure” as he got up and sat on the edge of the bed.

Steve made a vain attempt not to ogle as he sat down next to him. “I’m feeling… frustrated.”

“What, was Tony running his mouth off again?”

“No. Well, yes, but I don’t mean that type of frustrated. I mean…” He winced and forced himself to say it. “Sexually.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Okay. So… what do you want to do about that? I mean, you can go sleep with someone if you want, obviously, it’s not like this is… I’m sure there are plenty of people who would be more than happy to.”

“Oh. Cool.” Steve tried to keep the hurt out of his voice as he asked, “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

“No. I couldn’t… I’m just trying to look out for you, pal. If jerking off isn’t enough, I kind of don’t know what else to tell you. I know the serum must have you on edge all the time. Even the knockoff one I have does that to me. I don’t know about you, but this whole situation has given me a really serious auditory kink…”

Bucky trailed off and gave Steve a searching look. Steve was sure his face was bright red.

“Steve. Have you not even been doing that?”

“It just feels wrong, you know? When there’s so much tragedy in the world.”

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t gotten off in any way since the Disappearance?”

Steve shrugged and Bucky looked at him like he was a complete idiot.

“There is always tragedy in the world! If everyone stopped having sex until it was all peaceful and happy, humanity would die out in a generation.”

“I know, but they aren’t…”

“What, it’s okay for other people but not for you? Stop trying to make yourself a martyr, Steve. Killing yourself or your happiness or your sex drive doesn’t help anyone – it only hurts you.”

“Did you just call me a sex martyr?”

“If the halo fits.”

Steve glared at him.

Bucky glared back until he couldn’t stop the smile twitching across his lips. He flopped back on the bed and laughed heartily.

“You’re such a dork, seriously. Come on, What’s wrong?”

Steve looked him over. “I can’t… focus.”

The smile wavered on Bucky’s face, but he kept his gaze steady as he asked, “You want some help? Maybe I could give you something to focus on.”

Steve’s mouth went dry and he felt his face go hot from embarrassment. Or desire. Maybe both. He wasn’t entirely sure what Bucky was offering. Whatever it was, he knew he wanted it, but he was struggling to bring himself to ask.

“You gotta talk to me, pal. You’ve known me your whole life. You know there’s nothing you could possibly say that would make me love you any less. Things you want, things you don’t, anything. Just trust me. Please.”

Steve took a deep breath. He had the sudden sensation of standing at the open door of a quinjet, preparing to jump out into nothingness with nothing but his shield at his back, no safety net… but there was Bucky. There had always been Bucky.

“I’m no saint, Bucky. No martyr. When I said I loved you, I wasn’t talking about some pure, platonic love. I… I want you, Buck. In any and every way you’ll have me. So just… Just tell me what to do. Please.”

Steve forced himself to meet Bucky’s eyes and found his pupils were blown wide. “Okay, Stevie. I can do that.” Bucky took a steadying breath and his voice was low and rough when he said, “Take off your clothes and get back on the bed.”

Steve stood up. He shrugged his jacket off and shucked his shoes. Then, he hesitated, his fingers hovering over the hem of his shirt. Between the shared apartment and the army, Bucky had seen him shirtless plenty of times before. But this was different and they both knew it. 

As if sensing Steve’s discomfort, Bucky got up on the opposite side of the bed and stripped off his shorts without any delay. He took a bit more time with his boxer-briefs, giving Steve ample opportunity to take in the long lines of his body. Bucky shimmied his hips as he pulled the jeans down over his briefs, clearly putting on a bit of a show. Steve would make fun of him for it if he weren’t so completely enthralled.

Before he could overthink it, Steve quickly removed his own clothes. He sat on the bed, back against the headboard and knees pulled close to his chest, trying to breathe through the arousal and anxiety at war in his body.

Bucky lay down next to him and stretched out languidly. “C’mon, lay back. I want to see you.”

Steve complied. Bucky’s eyes roved over his body, drinking him in like a man dying of thirst. “Damn, Steve. I loved you even when you were just a wisp of a thing. Always thought you were gorgeous. But now…” 

He moved a hand over Steve’s chest, tracing the patterns of his muscles in the air above the skin he couldn’t touch.

Steve couldn’t help a shiver running through his body.

Bucky clucked his tongue softly. “Hey, no need to be nervous. I’m gonna take care of you, Stevie. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Okay?” 

Steve couldn’t quite find his voice, so he simply nodded.

Bucky moved his flesh hand to his own chest, running his fingers along his neck and shoulder to the seam where his skin met the metal of his arm. Steve eyes stayed fixed to those fingers as they moved lower to tease a nipple until it pebbled under his touch.

“This is what I want to be doing to you,” Bucky murmured. “Touch yourself there, it’ll be almost like we’re touching each other.”

Steve obeyed. He let his eyes drift closed and his mind float away as he ran his fingertips along his torso, imagining that the nails lightly scraping his skin were Bucky’s. 

“You with me, Stevie?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m with you.”

“You know what I’d do, if I could touch you? I would kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before, hard and deep and wet, until we were both out of breath. Then I’d kiss down your neck, trace a path down your chest with my fingers and then follow it with my tongue. Would you like that?”

Steve nodded desperately. They’d barely gotten started and he was already hard and aching. It really had been too long.

“Talk to me, Steve. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I… I feel good. Warm. I’m really turned on, but… I wish I was kissing you, touching you. I want more.”

“That’s real good. You know I’d give it to you, right? I’d keep moving down until I was looking right at that thick cock of yours. I’d wrap my hand around you and I’d kiss and lick until I felt you practically twitching in my palm and then I’d… Fuck, I need to touch myself, Steve. You should, too. If the room is equipped the same for both of us, there should be some oils in the nightstand.” 

Steve fumbled for the drawer and said a silent thanks to God or T’Challa when his hand closed over a tube of massage oil. He slicked his hand and settled back in the bed. He turned his head and his eyes met Bucky’s. His head spun when saw the hungry need there, reflecting his own.

Steve took himself in hand and his voice went ragged as he asked, “And then what?”

“And then I’d take you in and swallow you down. I’d grab your ass and pull you in until you were at just the right angle to fuck my mouth. You want that?”

Steve nodded his enthusiastic assent. He was dripping with sweat and could barely catch his breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Stevie. God, I wanna taste you. I wanna touch you so much, I can’t stand it. I’m going crazy from it.”

Steve moaned in response. He wasn’t sure he was capable of being more articulate at the moment. But then Bucky begged, “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want,” and Steve could never deny him.

“I want… I want to make you feel so good that you forget anything bad that ever happened to you. I want to make you lose control and love it because you know you’re safe.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, stroking himself in earnest now. “Yeah, that’s good. Keep talking.”

“I want to mark you with my lips and my teeth and my fingers so anyone who even thinks about coming near you knows you’re mine.”

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, I’m gonna…”

Steve’s own movements stilled as he found himself completely entranced by the way Bucky threw his head back, the little gasps he let out as he arched up off the bed and came hard across his stomach.

When Bucky returned to himself, he smiled lazily and looked over at Steve. “God, I love you. Hey, what’re you waiting for?”

Steve kept his eyes on Bucky as he resumed jerking off. He was so close it was almost painful. Bucky moved closer to him and put his lips right next to Steve’s ear. “C’mon, Stevie,” he whispered. “I wanna see you let go. Come for me. I got you.”

Steve could swear he felt warm breath against his ear as his vision went white.

* * *

The morning after, Bucky was gone.

Steve tried not to panic as he dressed and made his way to the lab. Sure, it seemed odd that Bucky would wake up earlier than him and leave without saying goodbye, especially after what they’d done last night. But maybe there was a good reason. Maybe…

His desperate attempts to buoy his emotions sank the second he saw Vision’s face. 

“I can’t see Wanda anymore.” He was near tears. Tony, Bruce, and Thor were trying their best to be comforting, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to either offer or seek comfort.

He searched himself in vain for the numbness that had gotten him through in the past, but found only anger. He had spent his whole life trying to be his best self, to do the right thing, shouldn’t that count for something? Did God or the universe or whatever was out there hate him so much that every fucking time he began to experience one goddamn iota of happiness it had to be torn away?

Shuri looked up from the readings on her monitor. “I imagine the same is true for you, Captain?”

Steve nodded jerkily. He didn’t trust himself to speak at the moment.

“I was afraid that would be the case.” The others turned to look at Shuri as she explained, “The energy signal emitted by the Soul Stone has disappeared completely. It seems to have been effectively ‘turned off.’”

Tony frowned. “But how would anyone even know it was active in the first place? We weren’t able to find it until we knew exactly when and where to look.”

“It would be different for he that wields the stone,” pointed out Thor. “We were safe only so long as it remained unclear to the Stone’s wielder what it was doing.” 

“But he had to have become aware in order to know to make it stop emitting that energy. So, that means…” Bruce paled.

Thor looked grave as he confirmed, “Thanos returns.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the good Doctor Strange said, we’re in the endgame now. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the trans-dimensional phone sex along the way! I can honestly say I have never written anything like it.


	9. Goal in Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in posting! I have absolutely not abandoned this story; life has just been getting in the way. Hope you enjoy the update!

Bucky refused to panic.   

He’d sought out Wanda immediately and, upon confirming that she had also lost her connection with Vision, called a full meeting of the New Avengers. 

Strange paced in front of them, voice filled with agitation. “I just don’t understand what changed. It’s been weeks now that the Soul Stone has allowed you to connect across universes. The only reason for it to stop would be if Thanos took active control of the Stone and shut off the channel it was creating. But why would he do that now? The amount of energy flowing through the channel has been negligible enough that he hasn’t noticed. Can you think of anything that might have caused some sort of energy spike?”

_Fuck._

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, but kept his face blank and his tone steady when he asked, “Would fostering a more intimate connection with a counterpart in the other universe produce an effect like that?”

Strange paled. “Please, please tell me you are not saying what I think you are.”

“You explicitly said it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“I _implied_ that it _likely_ would not make a difference. That wasn’t an invitation for you to go test it out! And even so, I still wouldn’t think that one energy spike would be enough to draw attention…”

“Um, what about two?” The whole room turned to look at a red-faced Wanda, who was pointedly studying the ground. “If you are discussing what I think you are, there would have been two, um, spikes last night.”

Sam snorted, Quill guffawed, and Peter looked like he wasn’t quite sure he was following the conversation. The rest of the group worked hard to maintain neutral expressions until Drax helpfully clarified, “The man-witch thinks that if you all participated in sexual activities and orgasmed around the same time, that could’ve produced enough of an energy spike for Thanos to take notice.”

Sam burst out laughing as Strange looked between Wanda and Bucky in disbelief. “Seriously? Both of you? Great, Thanos is going to come destroy the planet because you people couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

Bucky chose to ignore the barb and focus on the problem at hand. “Are you saying there’s nothing we can do except prepare for a fight we’re almost certain to lose?”

“Not necessarily,” Strange explained. “Thor and I have… _had_ been communicating via Wanda and Vision. All references to the Soul Stone reference it having a kind of wisdom it uses to determine its wielder. The Stone decided Thanos was worthy after her sacrificed Gamora, but we believe there might be a chance that the Stone could select another wielder if they were deemed worthier.”

Sam frowned. “‘There might be a chance’? That’s a far cry from intel solid enough to work with.”

“It is, however, all we have,” T’Challa reasoned. “Doctor, how would we even begin to go about ‘changing its mind’?”

“Nebula told us that the Soul Stone’s selection mechanism is based on Vormir. Going there is our best hope." 

“Then we’re basically hopeless,” Quill said. “Even in our ship, it’s a good week away. Whatever Thanos is planning will be long over way before we get there.”

For the first time that day, Bucky saw a flicker of a smile cross T’Challa’s face. “Then it is a good thing you will not have to take your ship. I will return momentarily.”

As most of the group looked after him, bemused, Wanda lowered her voice and turned to Strange. “We remain unclear on what the Soul Stone is even capable of. Even if your theory is correct, Thanos will still come and he will still possess the other five stones. How could we possibly be strong enough to fight him?”

Strange considered. “You may not be alone. As the creator of the parallel universes, Thanos should be interdimensional. If anyone from the other side has the same idea as we do, you would both be able to interact with him.”

“How would we even know if they did?”

“Being that close to the Soul Stone’s place of power should make you at least able to see and hear Vision once again.”

“And with them, it would be enough?”

“You know how much I detest saying this, but honestly? I don’t know.”

When T’Challa returned, he had Thor’s warhammer in hand. “The Dora Milaje found this on the battlefield after the Disappearance. It can be used for transportation as well as battle. I ordered it locked away and did not deem it necessary to share with any except Doctor Strange, as he confirmed my supposition that it is far too powerful for anyone who is not a god to wield. I bring it here now because we are in a most desperate situation that may call for the taking of risks that we might never otherwise consider.”

“I am Groot! I _am_ Groot. I. Am. Groot.”

When everyone who wasn’t a Guardian looked at each other in confusion, Mantis translated. “He is pointing out that this group experienced something similar with the Power Stone. That, too, was too powerful for any _one_ to wield, but they were able to distribute its energy amongst themselves and wield it together. Perhaps that could work again.”

T’Challa began to express approval for the plan, but was interrupted by an indignant Quill. “Or maybe we’ll all kill ourselves trying to be gods and then there will be no one left on Earth to defend it! Or avenge it, for that matter.”

Bucky allowed the loud sounds of the ensuing argument to wash over him for a moment as he reflected. Since becoming the Soldier, Bucky hadn’t felt truly at ease with the world. He felt no great affection for it and no ownership of it. But this was Steve’s world. Steve believed in its people. He believed in Bucky. So, Bucky would do whatever he could to save it. And if he died trying, maybe the fates that had been so cruel to him would grant him a final mercy and let him see Steve one last time. 

He stepped forward and raised his voice above the din, calling for the group’s attention. Somewhat to his surprise, they immediately went quiet and turned to look at their ersatz leader.

“Look,” Bucky began. “Maybe no matter what we do, we won’t be strong enough to fight Thanos. Maybe we won’t even be strong enough to make it off this planet. I’m an Avenger. I’d rather die fighting than live in fear. And let’s be honest, here – if Thanos is coming, the real alternative to dying fighting is dying in fear. I know which way I’d rather go out. This probably isn’t the rousing speech you need right now – that was always Steve’s thing – but it’s the truth as far as I see it. If you see it the same way, come with me.” 

Sam broke the ensuing silence by shaking his head and stepping forward to stand next to Bucky. “Hell of a graduation from training, Sarge. Don’t know that you’re gonna be hired to give commencement speeches anytime soon. But I’m with you.”

“Me too,” said Peter Parker, and he stepped forward as well, followed by Wanda, T’Challa, and Pepper. Quill looked around at his fellow Guardians, who nodded at each other and stepped forward as well. He shrugged theatrically and followed suit. The group turned to look expectantly at Strange, who sighed, “Well, obviously. It was my idea in the first place.”

“Alright then,” said Quill. “What are our orders, Sergeant?”

Bucky would’ve expected a flood of anxiety at all this trust and responsibility being placed in him. Instead, he found his brain shifting cleanly into mission mode and he started giving orders without skipping a beat. He, Wanda, and the Guardians would go to Vormir. T’Challa, Nakia, Pepper, Peter, and Sam would stay on Earth and coordinate with Fury and Hill so they were all prepared to defend the planet in case Thanos was not drawn to Vormir. Strange would coordinate between the home and away teams.

Strange pulled up a star map and showed them the path to Vormir, as well as a close-up of the planet’s desolate surface and the mountain they would need to land near and ascend.

“Why can’t we just land at the top of the mountain and spare ourselves the walking?” Wanda wondered.

Bucky thought that was an excellent question, but Strange shook his head and gave a metaphysical explanation that went right over Bucky’s head. Ah, well. Climbing a mountain would be the least of their problems.

More quickly than Bucky would have expected, everything was ready. All that was left was for him to give the order.

“Gear up.”

* * *

 They arrived on Vormir to discover that it was no longer desolate. Thanos had apparently anticipated their arrival, as the mountain was now surrounded by a horde of spider-like aliens that made the Outriders seem docile. There was no way their small party was going to be able to take them all out.

“The Soul Stone is the priority,” Bucky said. “We need a distraction. Your team can come at them from the front while Wanda and I clear a path to get to it.”

“Roger that.”

The ease with which Quill took his orders made Bucky hesitate. “Quill. I need to make sure you know what you’re agreeing to. There’s a chance you don’t come back from this.”

“No shit. There’s a chance none of us do, buddy. We got this. Run fast." 

They nodded at each other, then Quill hefted Thor’s warhammer and signaled his team to move out.

As the horde turned their attention to the Guardians, Wanda cleared a path for Bucky along the flank. After shooting two aliens and stabbing another, he made it to the base of the mountain. He started climbing, taking the stairs two at a time, until he found himself facing a cloaked figure.

“You seek the Soul…” it intoned, then cut itself off and said in a significantly less mystical voice, “I know you.”

Bucky looked at the figure blankly until it pulled down its hood and revealed a face that still, even after all his years as the Winter Soldier, haunted Bucky’s dreams. “Schmidt?”

“Please, I am just the Red Skull now. I am so glad to see you, Sergeant. I always regretted not being able to view the results of one of my greatest experiments. Captain America’s best friend remade into a Nazi killing machine. And yet, here you are. A wonderful sight. More importantly, a true challenge. I have been waiting too long to test the benefits of my new form.”

Red Skull lifted a hand and, before Bucky could even raise his gun, the weapon was ripped from his hands. He went flying, hitting the back of his head against the cave wall as a larger rock crashed down, pinning his metal arm. Bucky struggled desperately to free it as Schmidt approached him, a taunting smile twisting his lips.

“You’re the Stone’s guardian and I am a seeker of the Stone. You must let me pass.”

“Perhaps I grow weary of the job. What is there to fear, oblivion?” He let out an unhinged laugh and pulled a sword from his robes, raising it up.

Red Skull lunged at Bucky, but, before he could make contact, he was abruptly pulled back and thrown to the side. Bucky finally got his arm free and scrambled to his feet, barely believing his eyes as he found himself face to face with Steve.

Bucky reached out to him, but their hands once again passed through each other. Bucky glanced back at Red Skull, crumpled on the ground. Steve must have read the confusion on his face, because he said, “Schmidt must be interdimensional, like Thanos. That’s why we can both see and even touch him.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“You… are?”

“Gotta say, I would’ve been real upset to have learned that the Red Skull is the other person you love most in the world…”

A surprised smile was starting to break out on Steve’s face when Red Skull flew up off the ground and rushed at Steve. Steve sent him spinning back with a punch as Bucky stepped forward and disarmed him. Between the two of them, they made quick work of the Red Skull. 

Buck grinned. “Feels good to fight together again, pal.”

Any further conversation was interrupted by Wanda running up the stairs, out of breath. “Sergeant, the Guardians are still fighting off the…”  She trailed off and gave Bucky a confused look. “Who were you…? Is Steve there?”

“Yes.” He looked to Steve. “Vision?”

“We just got here. He’s fighting with the others.”

Bucky turned back to Wanda. “You should see him when you go back there. Help the Guardians. We can handle this.”

“But Red Skull was the Stone’s guardian,” Wanda protested. “How will you know what it needs? At least let me see if I can pull anything from his mind.”

Bucky nodded and Wanda knelt and pressed her hand to Red Skull’s temple. “The Soul Stone requires sacrifice,” she intoned. “Thanos already made his, but the voluntary sacrifice of one who can bridge the worlds would suffice to call the Stone back from them.”

Wanda had barely finished speaking when Bucky firmly declared, “I’ll do it” and fixed Steve with a look that brooked no argument.

Steve returned it with a look of equal determination. “I can’t watch you fall again.” He took off running up the steps.

Bucky rushed after him, but by the time he got to the top of the steps, Steve was already standing at the cliff’s edge. He turned back just long enough to say, “I love you, Buck.” Then he stepped off the ledge and fell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go!


	10. Once More

_He’d wanted him since before he knew what wanting meant, when it was all summer sweetness with cool cherry ice pop lips and fingers meeting through salty stadium crackerjacks. Even then, he had felt his blood thrum with a yearning for more, more. More of what, he wasn’t certain. How much more was there?_

_There was so much more._

_He knew that, here and now, when it was far too late to matter, when the battle had been fought and lost and there was nothing left but to accept the end with whatever grace his soul could muster. And still, his blood cried, more. More, as it spilled out of his body and into the foreign soil of this far-off planet. More, pulsing under the stars (was that one growing brighter, closer than the rest?). More, out to the universe, a cry to anyone who would listen, anyone who could hear…_

And someone heard.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve’s eyes snapped open. He could not fathom why. Had he somehow managed to fail at sacrificing himself? He had been certain the height had been enough to kill even a super-soldier. And why did he feel no pain? Had he only managed to injure himself enough to make himself useless in the ensuing fight? 

He sat up. He called out for Bucky, but heard nothing. Had Thanos already won? 

Steve laughed and it was a harsh, jagged sound. “How many goddamn times do I need to lose everything?”

“Too many. But not this time.”

Steve startled and turned to find himself looking at an old man with white hair and glasses. “What? Who…?”

“Long story. Short version is, I’m a Watcher. It’s my job to... well, watch. And never interfere.”

“But… I jumped off that cliff and am somehow still alive. No offense, but that kind of seems like interfering.”

The Watcher shifted guiltily. “I know, I just… I’ve been watching you for a while. Your whole life, pretty much. And, to be frank, I just couldn’t take any more pain.”

“But without that sacrifice… we’ve lost now, haven’t we?”

“It’s like that strange doctor said – you had every intention of dying, so the sacrifice can be accepted. Your Bucky buddy should be waking up in the big lake with the Stone in hand any minute now.”

Steve got to his feet, then hesitated. “Okay, so, what do we do with it? How do you use the Soul Stone?”

“I genuinely don’t know. Seems to me all you can do is have the best of intentions. Knowing you, Steve Rogers, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now, scram!”

Steve nodded his thanks and took off towards the lake. When he risked a glance behind him, no one was there.

 

* * *

 

Steve skirted the still-ongoing fight with the strange spider aliens. At least the arrival of Thor and Vision seemed to be having a positive impact on that front.

He arrived at the shallow lake to find Bucky on his knees in the center of it, clasping the Soul Stone. It was radiating an orange energy that coursed through him violently. It seemed like it was shaking him apart.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Steve splashed down next to him and touched his own hands to the Stone as well. The energy flared, then started running between the two of them. Steve felt it vibrating throughout his body as his and Bucky’s fingers kept slipping through each other.

“Steve?” Bucky was looking at him as if he wasn’t quite sure he wasn’t hallucinating again. “But you…”

“Later. I’ll tell you everything. Right now, we need to figure out how to use this before…”

In a crash of sound and light, Thanos arrived in front of them. He looked pleased when his eyes lit upon the Stone’s glow. “Ah. This is where it went. 

Thanos paused, towering over them, and looked hard at Bucky, then Steve. Recognition lit his face. “You. I should have known. And your…” He scanned them with the yellow energy of the Mind Stone. “Lover. How beautiful. How tragic.”

Thanos bent down and put a giant hand over each of their skulls. It was all Steve could do to keep hold of the Stone and try to hold on to good intentions. Thanos sighed and shook his head as if he were disappointed in the futility of their pursuit. “You’ve been kept apart for such a long time. Even now. I grant you this mercy – you will be together in death.”

He squeezed. Steve could barely hear Bucky’s screams over his own. The Stone fell from his grasp. There was just pressure and noise and then, suddenly, nothing.

He opened his eyes to find that Gamora had sprung from the Stone and stabbed Thanos in the eye, knocking him back. As he staggered, she looks around wildly for another weapon. Steve tossed her his shield and she slammed it down into Thanos’s neck. She didn’t stop until his head was fully severed. 

Gamora turned back to Steve and Bucky, who were staring at Thanos’s dead body in shock. “Get up and help me with this!”

They helped her get the gauntlet off Thanos’s hand and onto her own. Bucky raised the Soul Stone and watched as it flew over and slotted into place. Gamora locked down at it in satisfaction. “I am the daughter of Thanos and I have fulfilled my birthright by ending him. I shall reunite the universes and then destroy these. They should never again be wielded by any being – their sheer power could turn even the best man into a tyrant. If I myself am destroyed in the process, it will have been worth it. And, if that is what comes to pass, tell Peter Quill that I love him and that I am sorry. If, even in their destruction, the Stones have the grace to allow me to live, where should I find you?”

Over his shock, Steve managed to get out, “Earth. Wakanda”

Gamora nodded her thanks and disappeared. A moment later, the universe trembled and shook, then blew out in a wash of rainbow light.

When he could see again, Steve found himself lying on the ground a few feet away from Bucky. He stumbled to his feet as Bucky did the same and they staggered towards each other. Steve reached out a hand. Bucky pressed his palm against it and – finally – Steve felt it, solid and warm. Steve took a shaky breath and tears pooled in his eyes as he pulled Bucky in for a hug.

When they pulled back and looked at each other, Steve felt overcome with a sudden shyness. He glanced down, prepared to let the moment pass. And then Bucky said “oh, fuck that” and kissed him until they both tasted tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to finish this - life got in the way, as it often does. Seeing the new trailer inspired me to come bring things to a conclusion. Hope you've enjoyed the ride!


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